In the Days of Auld Lang Syne: Attractive Nuisance
by Grendelsmother
Summary: Emmett McCarty is tired of the same old meat market. When he meets Rosalie Hale, beautiful but difficult, he feels both attraction and repulsion. Can he put aside his own pride to get to know the real Rosalie? Part of a series.
1. Hideous and Sexy

**A/N:** This story is part of the Ravelry fiction In the Days of Auld Lang Syne, along with Feisty Y. Beden's Fix You and Jayne Rulis's Bold as Love.

Thanks bunches to Saturday Night Chat: my liver and my storyline wouldn't be the same without you. And Unicorns Unlimited, I love you all! All chapter titles are taken from Ludo's "Love Me Dead," which should play at Em and Rose's wedding.

Rated M for Emmett's potty mouth. And for eventual lemony goodness.

Stephenie Myers owns Twilight and all its characters. I just like to play with them like paper dolls. Or Barbies.

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**Chapter 1: Hideous and Sexy**

I totally couldn't believe this shit. I mean, Edward's job got us into some pretty sweet parties, but a gig at some chick bar called the Unicorn Pub? On New Year's Eve?

"C'mon, Emmett, so it's a girly bar…you know the ratio will be good." Edward ran his hand through his hair. Already working on that bedhead for the party. Girls loved that shit…although why they'd want to hook up with a guy who looked like he just got ridden hard and put up wet, I'm really not sure.

"But, _damn_, Edward, you know what kind of girls are gonna be there. It's gonna be the mani/pedi-getting, Sex-in-the-City-watching, Manhattan-drinking, three-inch-heels crowd."

"Isn't that the kind of woman you usually bring home?"

He had me there. Women like that loved my shit. I couldn't deny it. But I was so fucking sick of that scene. Those women were all the same, and not one of them had any self-respect. They didn't expect any more than a one-night stand, and frankly, acted like there was something seriously wrong with you if you called the next day. One particularly nasty bitch said, "How needy _are_ you? Who the fuck calls first thing in the morning?"

Gee, I don't know. Somebody who _gives_ a flying fuck about you?

Most of those women I met at my gym. Ursa Major was a serious meat market. I didn't really set it up that way, but most gym rats were…well…shallow and whoreish? I know, I know, they make me money, right? But it didn't mean that I enjoyed it. I'd prefer some actual athletes, people who gave a shit about _performance_, not just looks, but even I knew that the money was green no matter how they looked at their workouts. And I did have a few Mariners who came in for training.

But day in and day out, spending time with tanning-bed addicts and muscleheads who were dumb enough to actually do steroids (but not in _my_ gym…I'd busted more than one head for that shit), I'd just gotten burned out on them.

It's good that I had Edward and Jasper. And I'd had the Red Bar. Until last night, when it'd all gone up in flames. _Literally_. Tanya and Kate, who ran the place, were the queen mothers of the three-inch-heels set, but they could throw them back with the best of them. They both drank me under the table on a regular basis, and not with Natty Lite and apple martinis, either. Straight-up tequila shots most nights. I'd had them both at various times, but it was just sex. We liked each other okay, but it was strictly physical.

And that's what it was like with all of them. Even if I found a girl that I thought had a little more to offer, then any effort to get to know them resulted in a similar conversation: "I just want to have fun right now"; "I don't think you're relationship material"; "I like you as a friend." The last one in particular threw me. Um, sorry, the fact that you were willing to blow me in the bathroom at the party led me to believe maybe I was a little more than a _friend_. Silly me.

"Edward, I'm seriously sick of that kind of woman. They don't have shit to talk about except shopping, shoes, and their hair. I just can't take it any more."

"So I take it you're not on the market tonight?"

"Fuck, no, Cullen. Not in _that_ market."

"Mind going anyway? I promised Rosalie I'd bring friends. Sometimes the male population at the Unicorn is a little thin, apparently."

"Fine. Whatever."

"It's a costume party."

"Fuck, Cullen, are you seriously _trying_ to kill me?"

"Look, we drink for free…how bad can it be? And, um, it's a storybook theme."

"OH. MY. GOD. This is the lamest shit I've ever heard."

"Jasper and I are going to pick out costumes this afternoon. You wanna come?"

I just stared at him for a while. _Fucking A._ "So which of you is going as Snow White? Or are you skipping that shit and just going as a giant vagina?"

"I'm not sure what storybook has a giant vagina in it…"

"I can name more than one."

"I'm sure you can, McCarty. Look, I'm not saying you have to dress up as Prince Fucking Charming. Just come in whatever, okay?"

"Fine. I think I've got something around."

I actually did, too. I'd never tell the guys what a complete pussy I was, but I read to the kids at the library on a regular basis. I had a Max costume. Max, from _Where the Wild Things Are_? Not at all sexual, not a chance of some chick in a matchy-matchy costume coming on to me. And I looked pretty much like a giant freaking marshmallow in it. Generally didn't appeal to women at all.

Cullen looked at me suspiciously. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"You know me, Cullen. Always got some kinky shit around, right?"

"Yeah, I'm _definitely_ not asking."

Let him worry about what I was going to show up in at what was essentially his work. Served the prick right for getting me into this shit.

A few hours later Ed and Jasper finally got back, both holding garment bags. I was sitting in my boxers and an old t-shirt, watching a bowl game on ESPN and eating chips.

"_Tell_ me that's not your costume." Jasper looked pained.

"Yeah, Whitlock, I'm going as the eighth dwarf: Horny."

"Thought you weren't into that tonight."

"Cullen, you pansy, you're always so fucking worried about my behavior. I have a costume, this isn't it, and it's appropriate for the theme. Okay, Martha Stewart?"

"Whatever. Listen, we're going to have to leave a little early. I've got to get there to set up, so try to be ready in an hour."

I put on my best falsetto. "Oh, no, how will I _ever_ have time to do my hair???"

"Fuck you, McCarty. One hour, or we're leaving without your sorry ass."

"Damn…threaten me, why don't you? You know how much I'm looking forward to this."

"Whatever. One hour."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

The ladies went upstairs to change. I wasn't sure what costumes they'd picked, but neither bag looked big enough to hold hoop skirts.

In a few minutes, the game went to halftime, and I decided to go upstairs and change so that I wouldn't get nagged any more. Cullen was still primping in his room, but Whitlock was standing there in some purple suit with yellow gloves and a giant hat.

"What the hell is that shit, Whitlock?"

"I'm the Mad Hatter."

"I wasn't sure if you were going for Professor Plum or Colonel Mustard."

"Mad Hatter…from _Alice in Wonderland_?"

"Oh, I see. Looking for an Alice tonight, are we?"

"What comes will come, man."

"Well, Dr. Phil, I'm gonna get dressed. What the fuck is taking Cullen so long?"

"I don't know. We don't exactly shower together."

"Yet."

"Nice. Go get dressed, or you know he'll nag."

I dodged into my room just as I heard Cullen's door open. He didn't need to see me in my underwear and freak out again. I dug Max out of the back of my closet. I tried hard to keep my volunteer work under wraps. I knew they'd wonder why the hell I had this costume on hand, but I figured it wasn't really any of their business.

A few minutes later, I came out into the hallway, where Cullen was wearing...not a costume.

"What the fuck are _you_ wearing?" My eyes bugged out a little. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

"My costume didn't fit. Besides, I'm working, so I figure I can get away with not wearing one."

"Mother_fucker_. You better sleep with your eyes open the next few weeks."

"More to the point, what are _you_ wearing?" Whitlock gestured to my costume. "What is that…footie pajamas? No, wait, let me guess. The dormouse. You wanted to match me. Awwwww…I always knew we'd end up dating eventually."

"Shut the fuck up, Whitlock. I'm Max." They both looked at me blankly. "Max. From _Where the Wild Things Are_." They kept looking at me, mouths a little open. "Jesus, close your mouths. You're drawing flies. And catch up on the classics."

"Why do you have that?" Cullen finally asked. Whitlock walked slowly around me, being sure he got every angle.

"It's left over from college. What the fuck does it matter? You wanted a costume, I have a costume."

"It's got a butt flap!" Whitlock finally busted out laughing.

"_Seriously?_ You're wearing a 50-gallon top hat and you're laughing at my butt flap?"

"All right, all right," Whitlock held up his French's-yellow-mustard hands.

"Are we getting out of here or what? Let's get this over with." I put on a Burger King crown that I used as part of the costume. Whitlock and Cullen doubled over. I just rolled my eyes. "Laugh it up, bitches. Let's go." I mustered all the dignity I could and walked down the stairs.

It was a long drive to the bar, with my roommates giggling the whole way.

"You know what _makes_ your outfit, McCarty? It's the red Chuck Taylors."

"I'm sorry…are they inappropriate? You should have taken me shoe shopping. Or let me borrow those strappy Manolo Blahniks of yours…"

They both looked at me, confused. Whitlock finally spoke up. "You know, knowing the name of what I'm assuming is a shoe designer doesn't really help you look more manly right now."

Fuck, I've dated too many of those toe-walking, shoe-babbling Barbie-doll types. It was starting to rub off. "Whatever, Professor Plum."

We finally pulled up to the bar. It was pretty nice, compared to how it'd looked the last time I'd met a client there, kinda Tudor-style with an old-fashioned pub sign outside-- this Rosalie chick had done some major overhaulin'. She had already set up a fair amount of equipment when we'd stopped in with Edward the other day, but now she'd tricked it out with all kinds of cheesy New Year's décor, too. Whitlock and I looked around while Edward tweaked bars and twiddled knobs, or did whatever it was he did during soundcheck. The bar was mahogany, and super glossy. Bottle after bottle lined the back wall…she had some really good shit back there. Not bad. The dance floor was large and ringed with really posh private booths. All in all, I had to admit it was nicer than the Red Bar. But what really made a bar was the people that who showed up and the staff. I'd yet to meet any of them, so I was withholding judgment.

Then what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a table completely covered in these cakes…._fucking A_. They were beautiful and smelled heavenly. My mouth immediately started watering. Cakes did to me what a ringing bell did to dogs. Fucking Pavlov.

"Yo, Edward, you think anybody'd miss a cupcake?" I called out.

"Help yourself." The voice came from just behind me, and it was clearly not Edward.

I whipped around, and behind me was Rosalie Hale, in the flesh. Fuck, what a girl. She was tall, blonde, and the Bo Peep outfit she wore shoved her amazing tits up like they were on a silver platter. _Damn_. I looked her up and down in spite of myself. And stopped at her shoes. I was expecting some pointy-toed, spike heeled number, but no. They were fucking _sneakers_. With black polka dots and loud pink unicorns on the toes. And for some reason, they made me redonkulously hot.

I stammered for a while, looking for something to say, and finally managed, "Nice shoes."

"Thanks. I'm Rosalie. Pleasure to meet--oh, you're that friend of my DJ's I met earlier, right?" Her voice was cool, almost pathologically uninterested. "The one who had connections in the sports world?"

"Yeah, I'm Emmett. Emmett McCarty."

"Nice outfit, Emmett McCarty." She looked me up and down. I was beginning to wish I had a book to hold in front of myself. _"What_ are you, exactly?"

"I'm Max…from _Where the Wild Things Are_. It's, you know, a book."

"Yes, I'm aware. Well, try not to eat all of the treats. Save a few for the paying guests, okay?"

"Right." I wanted to say something, but let's face it—I knew when to admit defeat. This chick hadn't risen to the bait I'd chummed up the water with, not once. And that kind of chick was most likely a card-carrying member of the three-inch heel club (in spirit, if not in footwear), and therefore going to be just like the ones I usually dated. But _damn_, I'd be pretty happy to luck into a one-nighter with her.

She was walking away. My mouth worked noiselessly as I struggled to process the tantalizing glimpse I'd had of her ass as she'd turned—perky, round, and clad in white ruffled bloomers to match that short, bouncy kinder-whore flounce of a skirt. She was almost gone, probably headed to her office in the back, when she turned back toward me and said, "Oh, Emmett McCarty? Nice ass flap."

After about six fucking delicious cupcakes and a vain attempt to clear my head of the humiliation, I meandered over to the bar. A spiky-haired goth-looking chick was pouring.

"Hey, there," I said, trying to seem cool, even though my ass was still sore over my little encounter with Rosalie.

"Max, isn't it? Rosalie mentioned there was one of you skulking about. Can I see your ass flap?" She was joking with me, but her voice was weirdly flat.

"Yeah, I'll pass. After a few drinks, maybe. So what are you?" I really couldn't tell.

"Alice in Wonderland…goth version."

"Really? I know someone who's in the market for an Alice tonight." I smiled, but she winced back at me. Probably just stuck my foot in. _Great_. This night was clearly going to be the bomb diggity. "Anyway, you pouring?"

"That's what they pay me for." Geez, she was gloomy. She needed to try that bottle marked _Drink Me,_ or maybe run into that caterpillar with the hookah.

"Well, could I have a 7 and 7?"

"You got it, Max."

"Emmett." She looked at me blankly. "Emmett McCarty. When I'm not disguised as Max, I mean."

"Whatever, Max. Listen, you probably need to let your buddy the DJ know that he's pissing Rose off not being in costume. Just saying. She's about to go on the warpath. Jake's trying to calm her down now."

I felt my face get hot. Rose and the huge Native kid? I sure as fuck didn't see _that_ coming. "Yeah, I'll do that." _Yeah, right._ I thought it'd be pretty fucking funny to watch Rosalie on the warpath. As long as that path didn't end at my door.

I settled in at the end of the bar. The place was filling up nicely. There were some seriously weird costumes in here. I mean, what was that shit on that chick by the door? Was she like a rutabaga or something? And that dude with the assless chaps was seriously under the impression that this was a gay bar. I reached back to make sure that my ass flap was fastened. Better safe than sore tomorrow.

There were suddenly voices from the doorway behind the bar. I couldn't really make out what they were saying, but there was an angry shrill female voice and a soothing male voice. I looked up. There was a window in the door. Rosalie's face was framed neatly in the middle, and she looked _pissed_. A very large brown hand was smoothing her hair, and I felt a lightning bolt of straight-up rage hit my chest. Then a face appeared next to hers and kissed her cheek. She smiled a little and nodded. _Great_. The night just looked better and better.

I decided I needed to get majorly shit-faced. "Hey, Alice! Get me another 7 and 7, sweetheart?" She rolled her eyes. What the fuck was _with_ women lately?

She slid one down the bar toward me. "You mind just keeping those coming?" I asked her. She gave me a sarcastic salute and turned back toward the crowd that was growing in front of her. Her little hands flew as she poured drink after drink, never having to get anyone to repeat anything, never losing track of what she was doing, pouring drinks, making change, slapping hands away from her ass. It was like a dance. She made me think of that Elton John song "Tiny Dancer." When Sir Elton showed up at the party, I was usually about halfway to shit-faced. The evening might improve yet.

At that moment, Rosalie burst out of the back office, clearly getting ready to go on a tear. As in "tear somebody a new one". My money was on Edward. Being a good friend, I tried to slow her down, calling her name as she passed by. "Rosie! This is some party, baby!"

"Oh, yes. Emmett McCarty. Exactly _why_ are you sitting at the bar? I wanted Ed's friends here so they could mingle with the guests. The ratio needs improving." She looked me up and down, a sneer curling her lips. "I suppose you _are_ a step above the guy in assless chaps. If you'll excuse me, I need to have a conversation with the fucking DJ."

"Now wait, wait, wait a minute. What if I just want to mingle with _you?"_ I tried to put on my sexiest bedroom eyes. God knew they'd fucking worked time after time at the gym. I stood. I towered above her, and walked toward her, reaching out to slide my hand down her bare arm.

"Fuck off. I have a business to run." She turned abruptly to stalk over to Ed, but she tripped on my tail. And when she tripped on my tail, you guessed it, the fucking ass flap on my costume came open, exposing the old fraternity boxers I had on.

"Motherfucker! If you wanted a piece of tail, you could have just _asked_, Rosalie," I joked, trying to coax at least a smile out of her.

"Nice boxers, sugarmouth. Oh, look-- a frat brother. What a fucking _surprise_. What are you?" She bent her face entirely too close to my ass, and her face just froze. "You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me. Where did you go to school?"

"University of Washington. Why?"

"No _wonder_ you fucking look familiar. Do me a favor. When your boyfriend is done spinning records, get the _fuck_ out of my bar and never come back. _Got it?_ I don't want to see your pig face ever again. Am I clear?"

"_Crystal,_ you fucking psycho. Jesus, do you ride your broom to work even when it's raining?"

She rolled her eyes and stomped off to have a word with Edward. I had no idea what the fuck any of that was about, but I did need to find the bathroom to cover myself before I reboarded the Tie-One-On Train.

Jasper came around the corner. "Hey, man, you know where the bathroom is?" I asked.

"Sure. It's just down that hallway. Um, you are aware that your escape hatch has been opened? Did the midget run out of oxygen?"

"Nice, Professor Plum. By the way, there's an Alice working the bar. And stay the fuck away from that Rosalie chick. She's fucking nuts."

"Really? That sounds difficult. Maybe even anatomically impossible."

"Yeah, well, there you go. I'm pretty sure Edward's on the receiving end right now. You can ask him how that's going, if you're feeling that suicidal. Me? I'm gonna go fix my costume. Then I'm gonna drink a _hell_ of a lot more."

I came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, ass tucked back into my costume, when Edward came streaking up to me, a little pink in the face. "Hey, man, what's happening?" I asked.

"Can I borrow your crown? If I don't get a costume together, Rose is going to flip her lid, and I'll be out my fee for this gig."

"Um, I think _that_ lid flipped a long time ago. But here." I handed over the paper crown. "Shine it up good before you give it back."

Edward stalked off. I wasn't sure how a Burger King crown made a costume, but whatever. Not my problem. I was headed back to the bar to make sure tomorrow's hangover would really be one for the record books when I saw a couple in a little alcove near the payphones. The guy had his hand about halfway up her skirt, and the girl was crying. A lot. "No! Leave me _alone,_" she said, trying to push him away.

But he had her pinned up against the wall. "Aw, baby, you _know_ you want it. Nobody's going to see over here. You been flirting all night, and now you're going to get what you asked for."

My vision just went red, and before I knew it, I had the guy by the neck, pulling him off her. "Motherfucker, she said _no_. You need your hearing adjusted?"

"Well, well, what have we here? What the fuck are _you_ supposed to be, anyway? The Stay-Puf Marshmallow Man? Get the fuck out of here, man. I got some pussy to get." He turned away from me, already reaching out for the girl, but before he could get there, I snatched him back by his throat and slammed him against the wall.

"I don't fucking _think_ so, you piece-of-shit motherfucker. You get your kicks this way, huh? Picking on girls?" I slammed him against the wall again. His feet were dangling a little above the floor. He was gasping for air. I slammed him again. "I think what you need to do right now is to take your drunk ass the fuck _out_ of here. If I see you again for the rest of the night, the only thing getting fucked around here is _you_. You feel me, bitch?" He was clawing at my hand, his face purple. "I think we have an understanding." I dropped him. He slumped to the ground, his feet unable to support him. "Get the fuck out of here." He scrambled up and beat a hasty retreat.

The girl was still in the corner, her hands over her face and her clothes still slightly awry. "You okay there?" She just sobbed. I went over to her. "Did you come with anybody? Can I get anybody for you?" I touched her on the shoulder. "Miss?" She shrank away from the contact.

Shit, I wished for a girl to come along who could take better care of her. She didn't really want to be around me, and who could blame her? Unfortunately, the wrong girl came around the corner.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" Rosalie's shriek would have woken the dead. "GET AWAY FROM HER!"

It probably looked bad, but damn, she didn't even _know_ me. What was with the jumping to conclusions? I held up my hands. "Look, I'm just trying to help her. Wasn't I?" I was really hoping that the girl would jump in sometime. _Any_ time. She gave a tiny little nod, but her face was still tear-streaked and terrified. It really wasn't that convincing.

Rose seemed to swell right in front of me. I thought that Bo Peep costume was going to split and some sort of alien was going to emerge from her carcass, _Men in Black-_style. But her voice, when she found it, was deadly quiet. "Emmett McCarty, I want you the fuck out of here. _Now_. Not five minutes from now, not an hour from now, not after midnight. _Now_. I don't give a flying fuck where you go or how you get there. I just never want to lay eyes on you ever again_. Ever."_ For emphasis, she got right up in my face. "And if I ever hear that you touched a girl without her consent ever again, so help me God, it will be the last time you ever touch _anything_. I will shove your hand so far up your own asshole that you could scratch your own lungs. Got it?"

_Fuck_. For whatever reason, Rosalie Hale had already mentally tried and convicted me. There was no reason to defend myself. I just turned and walked out. No, _fuck _that. I turned back toward her and said, "You know what, sweetheart? You don't know _shit_ about me. And no matter how hot you are, you would be the last woman on earth I would let within a hundred yards of my ass. You are fucking _insane."_ I turned and walked out, not even bothering to find Jasper or Edward. I could take the fucking bus home. I looked back, and Rosalie was glaring my way. She'd followed me to the door to make sure I left.

"Oh, and Bo Peep," I called out. "You didn't lose your sheep. They fucking _ran away."_

I slunk off to the bus stop. Looked like midnight would find me alone. _Happy Fucking New Year, Emmett McCarty. _


	2. Parasitic Psycho

**A/N** So I totally posted this for the first time without the author's note. Yay me.

Thanks for all the reviews I've received so far. You guys are awesome! Thanks to all the UU peeps, especially feisty, HeartofLife, Knittingfynatyc, and sareeswfla, who all helped me out with little bits on this story, and who really need to invest in some pom-poms and short skirts 'cause you guys are the best cheerleaders EVER!

Obvious shoutout to angstgoddess, the Queen Mother of all fanfic, in here somewhere. I won't mention the line…you guys know what it is. It is Win, and I do not own it. All other one-liners belong to me, except for a brief reference to a classic movie.

And now…for the disclaimer: Stephenie Myers owns all things Twilight, which means even if you want to shower me with dollar bills after you read this, you can't. Ain't that sad?

**Chapter 2: Parasitic Psycho**

The bus ride home smelled like the locker room at my gym. That and the fish market. At sundown. On a hot day.

It was the perfect ending to a perfect fucking night. No one talked to me. I mean, I was dressed like a freak, even by bus standards, and I was pretty sure that I was not giving off a warm and cuddly vibe. I just kept seeing that harpy standing in the doorway of her fucking bar, watching me slink out into the darkness, tail between my legs. "Bitch," I muttered to myself.

There was really only one thing for it. I needed a workout like I needed air. An hour on the treadmill at a 15% incline…50 reps on the bench, at 100 pounds…just thinking about it was relaxing me. I'd go in tomorrow. The gym would be closed, and I'd have run of the place. It was the best part of Ursa Major: Ursa Major empty. I'd work out until I was fucking exhausted and my brain would be empty…like a beach at dawn. Fuck yeah.

"Dude…hey, dude." The voice from two seats over was seriously unwelcome and came with a gust of air that smelled like a brewery. Strike that. The alley behind the brewery, where all the tourists puked their free samples.

I turned to look at a guy a little younger than me, dressed normally except for the Technicolor puke stain on his shirt. Nice…he'd had pizza. "So what are you? Like that marshmallow dude from _Ghostbusters_?" He broke up, delighted at his own rapier wit. Fuck, I hope I wasn't so fucking pathetic when I was drunk. "Dude? Dude? The marshmallow dude! Marshmallow!" He let out a belch that rattled the bus windows.

Hitting him would feel quite good. It would be the physical release that I really needed to deal with the level of anger that I had, but it would also get the cops involved. Only thing worse than ringing in the new year alone at home would be ringing it in by kissing Bubba in the holding cell. Although Bubba's breath would be a serious improvement from the wind coming out of this particular douchebag.

The bus stopped, and I stood. Usually guys like this turned into complete pussies when they got a gander at how big I was, no matter what I was wearing. I walked two seats down the aisle and stood over the drunk. "Look, man, I don't want any trouble. Clearly I've been to a costume party, and clearly I could beat your motherfucking ass into a pulp, so why don't you shut the fuck up and give myself and everyone on this bus a break from the stench that's emanating from your gaping maw? Thank you." His eyes widened as he took in all six and a half feet of me, and he shut up. Yep, big mouth, big pussy.

A couple of people actually applauded as I made my way back up front, putting a little more distance between me and that particular stink. There was still stink, but it was new stink, novel stink. I sank down into a seat that was probably once reasonably soft but now was the consistency of an Easter Peep that had been left out for about a week: gritty and crusty.

What an end to a truly crappy year. More women through my door, only one of them more than once. And I'd really like to forget her. In fact, thinking about her sucked more than thinking about Rosalie—I mean Rose had so far only done _one_ really shitty thing to me—so I shifted my thoughts to the bar. The Red Bar. Burned to the ground. Just thinking about it brought back that awful hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach, made my arms and legs feel weak, and made my eyes try to close. I was officially a Man Without a Bar. Normally, my girlish scream at seeing those pictures on the news would have embarrassed me, but the anguish at losing that place was just too much. The fact that Jazz and Ed didn't rag me for that shit was testimony to how much it hurt them too. Such a big part of our lives, gone. I wondered what Kate and Tanya would do now. I just sat there while images of the past year flitted through my sore brain, finally settling on two images: the Red Bar in flames, and Rosalie Hale's angry eyes as she threw my ass out of the Unicorn Pub. I was a Man Without a Bar.

The Marshmallow Douchebag in the back let out another window rattler, and I found myself wishing that motherfucker was in my place. It would smell a hell of a lot better in here if _he_ was without a bar. I heaved a sigh, and immediately regretted it as the smell of stale beer, vomit, and that awful fishy-sweaty smell assailed my nostrils. I should have just waited the couple of hours outside for Ed. The cold would have been better than this stink. Four more stops and I could escape the fucking Metro drunk tank.

_And now, we go to our play-by-play reporter for a full account of the bus ride home:_

_Four Stops_

_A guy gets on…full dreds, guitar on his back. Clearly wants to be Bob Marley. Reeks of pot and patchouli stink. Walking stereotype. Not interesting. With him is a girl, skinny, skinny, skinny. Clearly needs a milkshake. Stat. I think of Rosalie. And all those curves. Fucking bitch has curves for miles…like the Dragon back home, the road that all those motorcycle guys take just so they can try not to plunge off a cliff. If they knew Rose, they might not bother, just let the bike carry 'em right off the cliff to escape her clutches. _

_Three Stops_

_Three Japanese tourists get on. Not sure what they're touring this time of night around here. Whatever. Hey, Japanese tourists, you want me to take a picture of you with the biggest harpy on the West coast? I know just where she is…she could give Gojira a run for his money. I get a sudden image of Rose, standing taller than all of the buildings around her, completely demolishing Tokyo, crushing me under her giant unicorn sneaker. "GRRRRRRR! ROSALIE SMASH! ROSALIE EAT! ROSALIE BREATHE FIRE!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" _

_Two Stops_

_Nobody, nothing. We skate obliviously through, getting me one stop closer to home and bed and sweet sweet oblivion. "ROSALIE SMASH YOU INTO OBLIVION!" Go the fuck away, Rosalie. _

_One Stop_

_Blonde gets on. Fuck me, that hair. If I were in a better mood, I might try to see if I could get her to stop hop with me…we'd get off at the stop by the house…and then we'd get me off at the house. And her, of course. But let's face it. It would just be more of the same. And besides, that hair looks like Rosalie's. I'd probably end up strangling her with it in some sort of PTSD-inspired fantasy, and then we're back to the whole Bubba-in-the-holding-cell scenario. And my dick would probably shrivel up at the mere thought of her. "ROSALIE SHRIVEL PENIS! SHRIVEL PENIS INTO OBLIVION!!!" Weird, in my head, she's starting to sound like Michael Buffer… "LET'S GET READY TO RUUUUUMBBBBBBUUUUUULLLLLL…PENIS SHRIVLING INTO O-BLVEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN!" Fuck me, I need to go to bed._

Finally, home. I was determined to make it into the house in one piece and get on Ed's computer to work out the playlist for tomorrow's workout. I got off the bus in one piece, I heard the doors close, the bus took off, and there was a tug. A giant tug. It took a lot of strength not to get dragged down the street, but I remained upright and jogged alongside the bus. I began to realize that…you guessed it. My fucking tail was caught in the fucking door of the bus. The drunk guy was looking at me, laughing his drunk ass off. The bus wasn't going very fast, so I took a huge gamble and stopped, trying to yank my tail out of the door of the bus. The good news was that I wasn't dragged under the bus. The bad news was that something ripped. A lot. My ass flap flapped away from me, caught in the bus door. I was tempted to wave back. _Bye, Ass Flap! Bye Tail! Bye to what was a good year…and hello to a year that I'm afraid is going to suck royal ass…a year without the Red Bar._

I stood in the middle of the street, shocked for a moment, adrenaline pumping. I took a mental inventory of my body: arms…check, legs…check, ass…check, penis…shriveled, but check. I pulled out my key from the pocket of my poor sad Max costume and let myself in the house. Quiet. Beautiful.

I stripped off Max and stared at it for a moment, finally crossing to put it on the washing machine. I didn't know how to fix it, but I couldn't bear to throw it away. The kids loved that thing.

What a fucked-up evening. I sat down in front of the TV for a minute, just to watch the highlights on _SportsCenter_. Should have stayed in to watch football. After a few bowl game results, they were onto, I don't know, tournament pinochle or some shit, so I turned the volume down and started on my playlist for tomorrow's workout.

By the time the bowl game highlights restarted on _SportsCenter_, I had at least a partial list: "Bitch," "Bitch is Back," "Bitch," "Baby Bitch," "Crazy Bitch," "Cold Hard Bitch," "Rich Bitch," "Bitch We Got a Problem," "Smack My Bitch Up," and "Love is a Battlefield." (Yeah, Pat Benatar. So what?) That would be a start. Put that shit on repeat, and you've got yourself a workout. Maybe the theme was a little heavy handed, but I was tired. I could round that shit out later.

I turned off SportsCenter. Edward and Jasper had to be having better nights than me. They weren't home yet, and it was already…11:00. Nice. Fucking 11:00. I. Am. Such. A. Loser.

The next morning I got up with my alarm at 6:00, threw on some workout gear, and brushed my teeth. I'm not a barbarian, you know. I grabbed my iPod from beside Ed's computer. Ed and Jazz had to be home, 'cause Ed's Vulva was blocking the Jeep. Fucking-a, I thought, and looked on the hook by the door. At least Eddie Baby was a creature of habit. I got the Vulva moved and then got the hell out of dodge.

Ursa Major was deserted. Usually by 6:30, we were covered over with what amounted to my most dedicated patrons, other than my athletes, who came in at all hours. They were in, they were serious, they did their workouts in silence while watching the news on TV screens above the treadmills, and they got the hell out. They didn't forget their water bottles; they didn't forget to wipe down the machines when they were done; they didn't leave athletic tape all over the locker rooms. They were a gym owner's wet dream. But I was glad they weren't even here this morning, because I needed to pump some music and do some serious working out, without an audience.

There was a sound system hooked up to the whole gym. We usually just used it for announcements. "Douchebags, one among you has left the lights on. You're driving a Beamer with plates reading MSTRB8R. Thank you." Today, though, I decided to put the mix through the sound system.

I started with the cardio. 15 percent incline. It almost burned my calves to stand on that shit, but I took off running. The music pumped through the system loud enough to draw cops if anyone were out at 6:30 in the morning on New Year's Day. I doubted it. Pretty soon, I got into a pleasant rhythm, my shoes pounding a rhythm that matched the rock music coming from the speakers. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Fuck.

Why couldn't I get that bitch off my mind? It was more than just being seriously fucking pissed that she'd accused me of trying to rape the very girl that I helped out. After a point, I wasn't even thinking about that any more. I was thinking about her shoes. Sensible shoes. On a girl built like a 50s movie star: gorgeous tits, tiny little waist, round hips. None of that prepubescent boy stuff, all angles and sharp bones, like that skinny girl on the bus. I hate that shit. And the hair…golden waves all down her back. I couldn't help but imagine that hair across my pillow, those red lips parted, whispering, "Emmett McCarty."

"Fuck!" I stumbled and found myself shooting off the back of the treadmill. _So very glad the place is empty. _I'd never live that shit down.

I stopped the treadmill and got back on. I hadn't been going that long. _Great. Just thinking about her, and I get a premature ejection._ This was going to be serious trouble.

Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. My feet kept pounding her name out in time with the angry music I had programmed into the iPod. I should have turned on the TV. Surely they were announcing the first baby of the New Year by now, telling us how many people were killed or got pulled over for drunk driving last night, giving us "The Year in Review," all that crap. Anything to get my mind off Rose.

Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. This. Shit. Is. Getting. Old. I glanced down at the timer on the treadmill. I was aiming for an hour. 45 minutes. 15 more. I lessened the incline a little. Usually by now I had gotten that beautiful calm thing going on…where you're working out really hard, and you just get in the zone, and everything seems effortless, and your mind just goes blank. But instead of blank, I had bitch. Bitch is the new blank.

I guess she had a point. It probably looked bad when she saw me with that girl. I thought about it hard, trying to see what she saw. I'm a big guy, and she'd seen me drinking. And the girl crying in the corner. Shit, it did look bad, didn't it? But why didn't she let me explain? Why didn't she wait for the girl to explain? Why in the space of less than a minute did she try, convict, and execute me? She didn't even know me.

But I really did understand the protective impulse. I'd seen shit like that happen, and it made me fucking sick to my stomach. I'd known guys in college, before I left the frat, who did shit like that. I never saw it myself, so I was pretty content to give them the benefit of the doubt. They were just rumors, I thought.

If I'd been more like Rosalie Hale, maybe that shit wouldn't have happened on my watch. And I did feel like it happened on my watch. And when I knew for a fact that it had happened, when I walked in on one of the brothers with a girl underneath him crying, saying "no," while he continued doing his business, not even trying to calm her down, I left the frat. For good. I pulled him off her and pounded his face into hamburger. I threw his naked ass out of that room, handed her a blanket without looking, and called the cops. And I started packing before the cops even got there. Brothers kept coming up to me, accusing me of betraying the frat. I pounded two more of them before the cops got there. I had to do some serious talking to avoid getting taken in for beating the shit out of three of my fraternity brothers. But the girl took my side, and it was pretty clear from her swollen face that we were telling the truth, even before she had to go through all that shit at the hospital. I even went with her to make sure that none of the brothers went over there to try to get her to not press charges. I was mad as hell. I reported everything I ever knew, every rumor, every brother that I thought had been involved in anything like that. I narced on every motherfucker that might have ever touched a woman without her explicit consent. I almost wanted to toss a Molotov cocktail over my shoulder, blast that shit Death-Star style into tiny little sparkling fragments. Scorched earth, man. Even as I thought about it while I was running, I felt the rage build up in me again, and suddenly I was running twice as fast as I really should be.

When I left the frat, it was the middle of the semester, so it meant I didn't have anywhere to crash. But I packed my shit before I even thought the decision through. I hadn't known Edward and Jasper very well, but I liked them, and I knew Ed had a house that he'd inherited. Since most houses had more than one bedroom, I gave him a call asking if he needed a new roommate. He was pretty fucking surprised when I pulled up 15 minutes later, ready to move in. He and Jazz really are good people. I rag them a lot, but when I pulled up, they were right there, no questions asked, helping me move my shit in. And I've been there ever since.

So I probably shouldn't rag Edward too badly about what happened at the party when I got back home. I'd owe him for a long time, and if one reactionary woman pounded my ass into the mud, well, I guess that was fair. It got him a good paycheck, and hopefully a steady gig. It would be a shame I'd have to miss every single one of them.

The timer on the treadmill went off, letting me know it was time to lift. I wasn't really a bodybuilder per se, but I was pretty strong. I was aiming to bench 100 for 50 reps. I could lift up to nearly 300 pounds, but I wanted the reps today, not the one-pump-chump approach. I had quads and lats to work today, too, so I didn't want to kill myself outright. And I didn't have a spotter anyway.

And finally, as I began to press all that weight up into the air, I found my peace. I could see her point, even if I thought she was a complete psycho. We don't have to ever see each other again, but maybe I could stop being so pissed.

And besides, she _was_ fucking hot.

An hour later, I was done. Tired as hell, legs like rubber, mind finally at that waves-on-the-sand place. I changed my shirt to something dry while I turned the lights out, gave the place a quick glance, and left, locking the door behind me.

The drive home was nice, windows down, tunes playing, not a single thought entering into my head. It was sweet.

The guys were up when I got back. "What the fuck are you guys doing up? It's not even nine yet." They looked like shit, though. "What time did you guys get in?"

"Three." Jasper spoke first. Edward just held up three fingers. Jasper's voice sounded like he had run a lemon zester down his throat. Yeah, lemon zester. I watch the Food Network sometimes. So what?

"Exactly why are you guys up?" I still wasn't getting this shit.

"Plans." Monosyllabic. Nice.

"Oh, you met your Alice. Ain't that sweet."

Jasper's head came up sharply. "You met her?"

"Who?" I was seriously confused.

"Alice."

"Wait wait wait. Are you shitting me? You actually met a girl named Alice?" I threw my head back and laughed. Then it hit me. "Oh, yeah…the bartender. Nice. Little goth action. I dig it."

"Don't laugh. She's…" he seemed to be struggling for the word.

"Hot?" I offered.

"No…real. Fragile. Beautiful. Haunting."

Haunting? "Jazz, dude, your vagina is showing again."

He lifted a single finger at me, and went back to nursing his coffee.

"How about you, Ed?" Edward shrugged his shoulders. Either no, or he doesn't remember. Either way, high-larry-ous. "Well, ladies, I'm off to shower. No peeking."

"Wait." Edward lifted a hand. Clearly this was going to take a while. He slowly lifted a finger, at least different from the one Jasper had used. "You need to tell me exactly why…" He took another sip of coffee. "…Rose bitched me out and told me that you were…" He glanced over at Jasper. "Help me out, here, what were her exact words?"

"I believe they were: 'filthy, disgusting, wild boar rapist.'"

"Yeah, I would've gotten everything except the wild boar part. Don't know what the fuck is up with that. Well, what were her bloomers in a bunch about?"

"Oh. That." I really didn't feel like talking about it, but I didn't see any way to get around it. "She misinterpreted something she saw." I looked at them, hopeful that would be enough.

Edward raised his free hand as he took another sip of coffee and signaled for more information.

"Fine. After I gave you my crown, I noticed a girl and a guy over by the phones. He was all over her. She was crying. I pulled him off her and got rid of him. Rose came over, saw me and a crying girl, and got the wrong idea. She threw me out, since I'm clearly a menace to her customers. So I was home and on my way to bed at 11:00. End of story. I'm going to shower now." I looked at Edward, then at Jasper. Edward just sat there, eyes scrunched tight as if in pain. Jasper was looking at me, eyes wide. "Yeah, I know. I'm a rapist."

I turned to go. They just let me. I knew I didn't have to explain to those guys that I was definitely telling the truth. They knew exactly how fucked up Rosalie's accusations were. They'd help move me in, after all.

The shower was awesome, as all showers are after a good workout. I just stayed in there for a while, my forehead resting on my arm on the back wall of the shower. I let the hot water hit my back and glutes, helping the muscles to relax. My anger had faded into…sadness, I think. I hated that she'd so misread me. I worried a little about what that said about me. What signals I was giving off that she'd picked up on. Maybe _my_ first instincts were right…maybe she _was_ just a bitch. Because I definitely was not that guy.

I was toweling off when Jazz came to the door to tell me I had a phone call.

"Who the fuck is it?" I asked.

"Ummmmmm….it's Rosalie."

"WHAT?" I asked. "WHAT THE FUCK DOES SHE WANT?"

"Ummmm, the phone's in my hand. She probably just heard you."

Great. "Give me the damn thing." I stuck my hand out the door. I just stared at the phone for a minute, like it was an alien probe and any minute it would snake its unlubricated way straight up my ass. It probably would feel that way when she was done with me.

I took a deep breath. "Hello?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

"I don't really want anything, Emmett McCarty." She sounded pissed again. Or still. Whatever.

"Well, good talking to you, but I just got out of the shower, and I'd like to get dressed now."

I'd almost hung up when she said, "Wait, wait." But then she didn't say anything.

"What?"

"Listen. This is hard for me."

_That's what he said._ I didn't say it. She still wasn't talking.

"Yes?" I was getting even more impatient.

"I…I talked to Meghan after you left."

"Who the fuck is Meghan?" My head was starting to pound, and we were, what, 20 seconds into this conversation?

"The girl. From the bar."

"I gathered that much. What girl?" I was starting to catch on, but I wanted her to say it.

"The girl that I thought you were…messing with."

"I'm pretty sure I didn't get thrown out of your bar for messing with a girl."

"Emmett, you know what I'm talking about."

"Oh, so you don't want to say it in the light of day? You were plenty quick to say it to my roommates." So what if they knew she was full of shit? She didn't know that they would. She couldn't have made me fucking homeless for all she knew.

"Okay, the girl I thought you were trying to rape. Happy?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fucking ecstatic. How many other people did you say that to before the night was through?"

"No one, really."

"No one much? Or no one actually?"

"No one, actually. I found out right after I talked to Edward and Jasper. I felt really shitty about it." She was sounding sorry, but I wanted her to be really sorry.

"Oh, well, I'm so sorry that _you_ felt _shitty_. I wouldn't know what that was like." I was determined not to make this easy.

"I'm trying to say that if you want to come back to the bar, it's okay." She was starting to sound more pissed. Good.

"Oh, yay. I'm re-invited to a bar I didn't want to go to in the first place. I'm un-bounced from a bar called the Unicorn Pub." I tried to put as much venom as possible into the name of her bar. "I'm invited back into the presence of probably the biggest she-devil I've ever met. So what? So you can keep an eye on me? Or maybe so you can tell me what a piece of shit I am. Rosalie Hale, down off her high horse to mix with the rabble. Joy oh joy. And here I was, wondering what the fuck I'd do on Friday night. Thought I'd be stuck inside, doing my nails."

"FUCK YOU, EMMETT! I'M TRYING TO F-FUCKING APOLOGIZE!" She was seriously yelling at this point. And was she crying? Why the fuck was she crying? Rosalie Hale knew how to cry? Her voice broke for a second time, and I was sure she was crying. And I was sure I felt like a douche about it. She was getting her second wind, though. "SURELY EVEN A MORON LIKE YOU—"

"HEY!" She paused in her rant, clearly not used to being interrupted. "Don't call me Shirley!"

And damned if she didn't laugh. And not just a little. She laughed until she snorted, a little piggy noise in the midst of some seriously un-ladylike cackling. And damned if Winchester wasn't rising to the occasion, pitching a serious tent under the towel I'd wrapped around my waist, if I do say so myself. If she'd been in front of me, I probably would have made a concerted attempt to jump her bones.

"Look, I'm sorry I'm making it hard on you. I'm just not the guy that you think I am, okay?"

"Okay." She was still giggling a little. Got to love a woman who loves classic film. "I would really like you to come back sometime, okay? I mean, for the sake of the ratio. And I know you guys used to hang out at the Red Bar, and since it's gone…"

"Well, for the sake of the ratio," I smiled to myself, "I might just have to come by on Friday."

"Okay. I'll be there." She took a breath, and one last little giggle. "Bye, Emmett McCarty."

"Bye, Rosalie Hale."

I hung up, and glanced down at my towel, now hanging by a corner from Winchester. Oh, yeah. She wanted me.


	3. Does the Fun Ever Start?

**A/N **Thanks as always to my Masta Beta sareeswfla, and the rest of the In the Days of Auld Lang Syne biotches: Feisty Y. Beden, Jayne Rulius, Knittingfynatyc, MzEll, and Ceci. And all the theoretical knitters at UU, you are the bomb and my reason for having the internet. Well, that and pictures of RPattz et. al.

Let's see. We have a multimedia experience to help you really understand what goes on in Emmett's head when he's peptalking himself. Well, okay, this guy put this clip on Youtube (add "watch?v=d6wRkzCW5qI" to the end...it's being cranky and not letting me link from here), and it's really close. What do you want? This is a really long update!

Oh, and we all know I didn't invent the concept of Emmett Cullen, although I make him more awesome. He's all Stephenie Myer's, and so's Edward, sadly, and so's all of _Twilight_. So, no, you can't put that money in my thong. Stop asking.

* * *

**Does the Fun Ever Start?**

_The sun was warm on my back as I stood in the shallows of the stream, hip waders keeping the cold water at bay. I flicked the lure lazily on the surface of the water, letting out a little line now and then. There were no sounds other than the rush of the water over the rocks and the chirping of the birds in the trees. The sun cast golden sparkles all over the surface of the water, and I waited peacefully for a bite. _

_And then I had one. I felt a hit on my line. The fish took the bait, took it hard, and ran. Line fed out, more and more and more, faster and faster and faster until there was smoke coming from my reel. I could see the V in the water that had to mark where the fish was, but the fish was clearly too big, too strong for this stream. It pulled like a boat, but there weren't motorboats on this river. It was too shallow for anything but fly fishing. I squinted into the sun. Any minute now my line would run out or break, but I still couldn't make sense of what was happening, and I couldn't stop it. I wasn't strong enough. _

_Suddenly the sun disappeared, as fast as it does during a summer afternoon storm. I looked up, and the sky was steel gray and swirling above me. Finally, just at the moment that the line would run out, I felt a huge jerk, and I flew, not forward, but backward. Something had hold of the back of my vest, and I felt like I was drowning as I was pulled backward through the water, just as fast as my fish had taken my line. The water rushed over my face, but I could see through it easily, as if it were a pane of glass, and then, when I thought I'd have to take a breath, have to pull that cold water into my lungs, my head hit something soft. There was a flash, like lightning, and then I realized that my head was cradled in a lap._

"_Shhhhhh…I've got you," a seductive voice said from above me. I opened my eyes slowly, and a beautiful face came into focus. It was Rosalie. _

"_Gotcha, Emmett McCarty," Rosalie said, and at that moment, when I just began to feel safe, she grinned widely at me as a clap of thunder sounded overhead. Her teeth glistened ominously in yet another flash of lightning. She stood, taller and taller and taller, and I realized that I dangled from a line by the waistband of my pants. Something bumped into me, and I realized that there were other men on a giant stringer, faceless men, and I began to scream._

I woke with a start and hoped that no one heard me. I'd never live it down if I woke up screaming like a little girl again. Once was enough, thank you, and while they'd ignored my Janet Leigh shower scream the first time around, I was pretty sure that the next one would result in some serious consequences. Maybe another Craigslist ad in my name. Ed and Jazz loved doing that shit. Last time they changed my name to Emma, and I had some seriously disturbing phone calls wondering some seriously personal things about my apparently ambiguous genitalia. Most wanted to know exactly how "ambiguous" "ambiguous" was. The word "shemale" was mentioned more than once. I wish I'd thought of that one.

I'd fallen asleep during a seriously boring bowl game, the UPS Pomegranate Bowl or something. Boring, boring, boring. The BCS was fucking ruining the game. You'd end up with these undefeated teams, but they haven't played anybody, so you end up with Podunk U against Bumfuck College in some over-sponsored game that nobody gives a shit about. Eh, fuck it, at least I got some nap time, even if it was fucking scary.

I shook myself, trying to get the remnants of the seriously fucked-up dream off me. I was thinking way too much about Rosalie. I didn't know why, but she was throwing me for a serious loop.

I glanced at the clock. The game was over, and it was around 10:30. I stretched and went to get a beer from the fridge. I stood there looking for something to eat, but there really wasn't anything in there, so I settled on having a liquid dinner. I'd make it up to myself tomorrow with some actual vegetables, meat, real food.

I wandered over to Ed's computer and settled in to make a new workout playlist. This one was a little harder. I wasn't angry at Rosalie, not really, not any more. I could understand how she got the idea that I'd done something to that girl. And I'd probably have done the same thing if I were her. Hell, I had done the same thing, about half a second before she leaped to the conclusion that I was a drunk-girl-raping-piece-of-shit-motherfucking-wild-boar-couldn't-find-a-sober-girl-to-take-home-gets-off-on-making-a-girl-scared-lumbering-idiotic-scummy shithead who wasn't worthy to breathe in the air of the Pub.

But that screwed my "Bitch" mix. Actually, it kinda made me feel bad for the approximately 1,546,203 times I'd called her a bitch over the last 24 hours. I mean, she apologized and everything. She called me _at home_ to apologize. That was above and beyond. She could have gone through Edward, but she'd tracked down our home number…probably had to call the station and wheedle the number out of Edward's weasly boss. Bet she flirted with him. For some reason, the idea of her flirting with Yorkie made my vision go red around the edges. _Interesting._

So I sat there again, watching _SportsCenter_ and waiting for inspiration to strike. And suddenly, it dawned on me, just as Scott van Pelt barked out the date. It would be January 2 in a matter of minutes. January 2. _Mom's birthday. _

Now, I'm manly and everything, you know I am, but there's some shit that a guy just never gets over. And losing his mom is up there, all right? And her birthday, right after holidays spent without her, far away on the West Coast where my friends have become my family and my family have become strangers, hit me hard every year. She'd died when I was 17, right in the middle of me trying to figure out where I was going to college. I'd been offered baseball scholarships at a bunch of different schools. I was leaning toward the University of Tennessee. If I went there, I could come home on weekends, when Dad was most likely to be drunk, and when she'd need me the most. It was only an hour away.

But instead, she died. Just like that. She was driving home from church one Wednesday night, and she was hit by a drunk driver. I always thought the drunk that would kill her would be Dad, but instead, it was some piece of trailer-park trash from over the mountain.

And the next week, I signed with the University of Washington. I didn't go back, not even when Dad died a few years later with pneumonia. It was just hard to care about a man who'd smoked himself into lung cancer and beaten my mom for as long as I could remember.

But Mom's birthday always made me think of home. Because at heart, I'm a Tennessee boy, and I just can't help loving home. I liked to avoid my hometown whenever possible. I'd become essentially a pariah when I hadn't gone home to see Dad buried. Because no matter what, no matter what he did or how miserable he made everyone while he was alive, you were supposed to give a shit when your dad died. You were supposed to "pay your respects." Well, you know what? I've paid already. And Mom paid. And I'm _done_ fucking paying.

But it was so beautiful there. And sometimes I really missed it. I could remember the stream out behind our house. It dried up to a trickle in the summer, but in early spring, when the snow was melting up high, the water found its way to that stream, and the sound of rushing water came in through the windows that Mom flung open the minute she smelled that first hint of spring. Mom always sang to herself when the creek was full. And in a matter of weeks, the rhododendrons on its banks burst into bloom, and the blossoms dropped into the stream and were carried away over the rocks.

Thinking of Mom changed my playlist. Changed my fantasies of Rosalie, too, from the uptight owner of the Unicorn Pub to the kind of girl I'd be with if I were still back in Tennessee, a Rose instead of a Rosalie. I thought about her standing by that stream, blonde hair flowing behind her, the old quilt from Mom's bed, the same old quilt that was folded neatly on the top shelf of my closet, wrapped around her shoulders. I could see her there as clearly as I saw her silhouetted in the doorway of the Unicorn Pub or in my dream. But in my fantasy, she was relaxed, happy…wearing blue jeans cuffed haphazardly above dirty bare feet.

I'd been picking songs nearly at random. At least, I thought I had been, but when I looked down, at least half the songs had "Rose" in the title. And it was all John Prine, Emmylou Harris, Old Crow Medicine Show. Music that made me think of home. And that reminded me of that perfect, confusing image of Rosalie, my Rose, standing barefoot by that stream, with the rhododendrons in bloom.

* * *

The gym was back on its normal schedule. I didn't have to be there to open, since I was the boss; I left that up to my manager and best trainer, Garrett. Garrett was British, and a boxer. Big motherfucker. Not as tall as I was, but just fucking wrapped in muscle. He was trying to get into the Ultimate Fighting stuff, so he'd been into Brazilian jiu jitsu lately. His favorite come-on to the gym bunnies was to go up to them and say in as thick an accent as he could muster, "You wanna punch me in the stomach?" You wouldn't think that shit would work, but judging from the number of winks and little blushes and waves that he got from the endless parade of ass past the sign-in desk, it did. He'd been really into Kate for a while after I'd taken him by the Red Bar. He tried that shit on her, and she punched the living shit out of him. She'd taken him a little by surprise, and knocked him flat on his ass. I'd laughed till I about puked.

So he was manning the desk when I came in around 6:30. The place was already hopping, full of the biggest muscleheads we had. And at least four of the Mariners were already in, getting ready for spring training.

"Hey, mate, how was your holiday?" Garrett asked as I came in.

"Okay, I guess. You hear about the Red Bar?"

"No. How was that shit New Year's Eve? Kate have somebody to punch at midnight?" He laughed to himself. He'd considered going with me to the Red Bar for New Year's, but I hadn't talked to him since the 29th. So he didn't know.

"Dude, it burned down."

Garrett just stared at me for a moment, stricken. I knew the shock was hardcore, because he ignored the pretty little thing who gave him a wave and a giggle as she checked in. He just clutched the coffee mug I'd given him for Christmas, a loud green number that had "Garrett: Lord of the Spear" emblazoned on the side. There was a Celtic shop nearby, and I usually went there to find something for Garrett. I knew what it was like to be homesick. And besides, I thought that shit was funny. I'd had to Google my own name after I found that, but it was lame: "energetic, powerful." Well, accurate, but lame.

"Garrett? You okay?" His mouth was working wordlessly, and little whimpers were coming out. After a couple of minutes, he found his voice again.

"I should call Kate. How's she doing?"

"Um, fine, I guess. Didn't you guys break up?" Garrett actually fucking blushed a little. "Dude, are you blushing?"

He just stood there for a minute, deer in the headlights. "I can't help it, man! I think about her all the time." A girl passing by the desk stopped, giggled, waved. She clearly hoped Garrett was talking about her. He just stared straight ahead, eyes glazed over. The girl's smile faded, and she muttered, "Asshole."

"So, explain this to me like I'm a moron. Why aren't you with her, then?"

"I don't know. She just didn't seem into me, and I felt like a git chasing after her."

I definitely knew what he meant. Girls around the gym just threw themselves at him. He didn't have to try. But that shit was empty, and we both knew it.

"Garrett, call her. Don't be a fucking pussy." I stalked off, suddenly tired of the conversation. If he wanted to let her get away, that was his own business. I had shit of my own to deal with. Garrett's stupidity was the least of my problems.

I went into the office, glanced at the phone. The voicemail light was blinking. I knew today would be busy. We'd have the New Year's Rush upon us. I just didn't feel like dealing with that shit right now.

Instead, I hit the treadmill for a while, determined to get my own workout in before dealing with the rush. I could see Garrett already leading around a slightly overweight guy. The first New Year's Resolutionary. I gave him two months, then we'd never see him again.

The bluegrass mix kept me in a nostalgic mood. It wasn't the best workout music, but it kept the pleasant image of Rosalie by the stream in my head. Sooner or later, I'd have to face up to the fact that Rosalie wasn't just a pain in my ass. There was something there, a spark. And that shit was going to be painful when I opened that door.

I finished my cardio, and started over to get started on weights. Garrett streaked up to me. "Man, the blowers are going nutty. And I've got probably 10 fatboys to show around. Can you grab the desk?"

"Where the fuck is that Lauren chick? And what the fuck's a blower? Speak English, man!" Garrett lapsed into some sort of Britspeak when he got stressed. And that Lauren bitch was pissing me off. I'd hired her before Christmas for just this very rush, and hadn't seen her since.

"I dunno, she didn't come in, man. She's a fucking moo. Sack her! I've gotta get back. Sorry to bother you, boss, but I need some help."

Fuck. Won't finish the workout today. I hated that. I cut John Prine off right in the middle of "Angel From Montgomery" and stalked off to the desk. I was definitely firing Lauren. Maybe I'd see if Irina or Kate needed a temp job. Not Tanya though. Too much baggage there.

The phones were ringing like crazy. I guess that's what Garrett meant. I needed to teach him some fucking English.

"UrsamajorthisisEmmettspeakinghowcanIhelpyou?" It came out as one word because I was helping a chick use her membership card for the first time. Jesus, you'd think if you could use a debit card, you could manage swiping a fucking membership card.

"Emmett?" It was a female voice. I froze for a second.

"Yeah?"

"It's Kate. Did you call me?" She sounded confused.

"No…probably Garrett. He just heard about the fire and wanted to check if you were okay."

"That's sweet." She gave a little giggle. If I knew Kate, and I was pretty sure I did— Biblically—she was playing with Garrett like a dog plays with a ball. A blue one.

"Hey, since I've got you, do you need any temp work since you're kinda out of a job for a while? We are seriously short-handed here."

"Doing what?"

"You know, answering phones, working the desk, shit like that. You could work out for free, classes included, if you want." I was fucking desperate.

"Sure…it's better than sitting around here waiting for the insurance adjuster to call."

"Great."

"When do you need me?"

"A half past an hour ago."

She laughed. "I guess I can come in for a while. You got anything for Irina or Tanya?"

I paused. I could really use the help, but the thought of having Tanya around…I didn't think I had a choice, though.

"Bring either, bring both, I don't care. I will warn you, someone's going to have to clean the women's locker room."

"I think we can handle it. I'll talk to the girls and see what we can do."

"Thanks, Kate. You're a peach."

"Yeah, yeah. That's what they tell me." She hung up. The prospect of having help cheered me up a little. I decided I'd let Garrett sweat it for a while. At that moment, he nearly jogged by with a group of pale, resolution-deluded newbies following him.

"UrsaMajorisastateoftheartfacility…" Shit, he was talking so fast, I doubt any of them new what he was saying. It was like watching Monty Python at double speed. Infuckingcomprehensible.

The phone rang again. "UrsaMajorthisisEmmettspeakinghowcanIhelpyou?"

"Emmett?" Female voice again. "Yeah…Kate?"

"No…Rosalie."

I just fucking froze. "Um, yeah?" Shit. Did my voice just break?

"Who's Kate?"

"New recruit. Just talked to her on the phone. What do you need today? Got a resolution?"

"Do I look like I need one?" She sounded pissy. Or maybe that was just her regular voice.

"No, no, no. It's just the time of the season is all." Fuck me, why did I always stick my foot in my mouth where Rosalie Fucking Hale was concerned?

She laughed a little stiffly. "Anyway, I was calling because I was hoping you'd come in to the bar tonight."

I was stunned, and it took me a minute to realize that I probably needed to respond to that. What could she possibly want?

"Emmett McCarty? Are you there?"

"Yeah, yeah. I was just confused is all. What do you need? I mean, from me?" _God, doofus, of course I meant from me. Fucking-a, Emmett, stop fucking talking._

"Well, we have a shipment coming in kind of late, and Jake's not going to be able to be here tonight, and I could really use some help getting it put away."

"Why me?" That excuse sounded fishy. Beautifully, beautifully fishy.

"Well, I thought we could maybe…I mean you're really…I just…"

Wow. Rose was tongue-tied. And now I was thinking about her tongue. _Great. Down, Winchester. Tongue. Mmmmm…_

"I was the first guy you thought of?" I smiled. At least she was thinking of me. And she thought of me early.

"Something like that. All my other prospects are busy. You can drink free. Tonight, I mean. While you're helping."

"I guess I can manage that. You'd owe me a favor, though."

She paused. "Like what kind of favor?" She sounded suspicious.

"Oh, I don't know yet. I'll have to think on it."

"I don't know if I want to owe you." She was definitely suspicious. _What did she think, I was gonna ask for a blow job for putting a couple kegs away for her? _

"I'll keep it painless, how's that?"

"I'm sure I won't feel a thing." _Ooooh…double entendre. Nice._ I grinned to myself.

"I highly doubt that. What time do you need me to come by?" _I see your penis insult, and raise you an orgasm reference. _

"Ummm…sex o'clock? Six! I mean six!" I could hear her hand on the receiver, her rings clinking against it, and a muffled curse.

"My, my Rosalie Hale, what do you have on your mind this morning?"

"Fuck you, Emmett, McCarty!"

"I'm sure you'd like to." I smiled.

"You know what I mean…I…but…just be here at six, okay? Before I change my mind and pick someone, I dunno, _human_ to help me."

"I'll try. I've got help coming now, so I should be out of here before too late. I'll swing by after work. Bye, Rosalie Hale…" I was trying for my sexy Southern boy drawl.

"I…Oh, fine! Just get off the fucking phone, Emmett McCarty." She was seriously flustered. I got a brief image of that golden hair across my pillow and smiled. Maybe that would be a possibility.

* * *

Kate and Irina came in around 11:00. Garrett's face when he saw her was priceless. Kate had certainly entered into the spirit of her job. She was clad entirely in spandex…little cropped leggings and a bright pink sports bra. She pretended to ignore him, but every time she saw him approach, she stretched something. As much as I hated to, because Garrett's face was a perpetual shade of purple by this point, I eventually had to put an end to it. "Kate…could you do me a favor?" She arched one perfectly manicured brow at me. "Could you torture Garrett on your own time? I mean, I'm enjoying it, but he's just…" I stopped and simply gestured. He was absentmindedly demonstrating how to use one of the machines to a newbie…sitting backwards on it.

Kate threw back her head and laughed deeply. I sighed and went over to give Garrett a break, apologizing to the new customer. "Garrett's…new." Newly lobotomized, apparently.

The day passed by. I continued to have to break Kate and Garrett apart, but at least some work was being done. Irina stayed glued to the desk, answering phone calls, taking pictures of new members. She was always the sister of the three who worked the hardest. She was a little like me, I thought. After all, the Denali sisters had lost a mother, too. Irina seemed to take it the hardest.

I finally determined it had slowed enough for me to leave. I knew there would be a spike after 5:00, but I'd never planned on being here that long anyway. "Irina…I'm going to leave for the rest of the day. You can reach me on my cell if you have any trouble. And…" I glanced over my shoulder, and leaned in closer. "Try to keep Kate and Garrett out of the locker rooms…at least until close." She snickered and nodded.

"Kate won't shut up about him, you know."

I smiled. I'd suspected as much. Kate wasn't exactly a workaholic, but she'd jumped at the chance to frolic around in Spandex in front of Garrett. I felt strangely happy about it; not just because my buddy was clearly going to get laid, but because I thought he and Kate had something more than that. And I was glad for them. But I hoped they'd at least clean the locker rooms when they were done.

* * *

I could have showered and changed at the gym, but I decided to drive home. I couldn't decide what to wear exactly. I wanted to look good, but I didn't want to look like I was _trying_ to look good. Fuck, I sounded like a chick.

I glanced at my watch. I'd have time to shower and change, but not to get anything to eat. _Well, we might as well get the first test out of the way: Does the woman eat?_

I stopped in at Tandoor on the way home. I had some apologizing to do to my body. I ordered a vegetable biryani, butter chicken for a safe mild choice, and because this was a true test, I got prawn vindaloo, lamb kashmiri, two different kinds of bread, hot mixed pickles, and blow-the-top-of-your-head-off mirchi wings. There, body, real food. Vegetables, protein. Too much fat, of course, but I couldn't take the risk that Rosalie was one of those can't-eat-it-or-I-might-gain-an-ounce types. She didn't look it, but I'd eaten too many dinners alone. I wanted a woman that enjoyed herself.

I left the food in the Jeep, a little afraid I'd start eating if I took it in with me, and ran in to quickly shower, check to see if I needed a shave—no, 'cause I'd look like I just shaved—and dressed quickly in jeans and an old sweater. As I got dressed, for some reason something Rosalie had said echoed in my brain. _Wild boar rapist. Wild boar._ Folded underneath the sweater I had just put on was my old fraternity sweatshirt. And there it was, right on the front. The boar. _The fucking symbol of my ex-fraternity._ She fucking knew. She knew about that shit when I was in college. But she didn't know I wasn't the guy. _Motherfucker! How was I gonna bring that shit up? Did I even want to? Should I?  
_

I stood there for way too long. The food in the car was gonna get cold, and I told Rosalie that I'd be there around six. I wasn't aiming for early, but I didn't want to be too late, either. I wanted to be Goldilocks. Get there just right. I didn't know what to do, but I'd just have to play it by ear.

I checked the mirror once more, I guess to make sure my mascara wasn't running, and headed back out to the Jeep. The drive over to the Pub took just a few minutes, and as I pulled around back, I noticed the back door propped open slightly. My Rose was waiting for me.

I checked the mirror again—lipstick, I guess. Whatever. I took a deep breath. I felt like a lot rode on how we got along this time around. I took a deep breath. _In this lifetime, you don't have to prove nothin' to nobody except yourself. The day may come when the courage of men fails, but it is not this day. Win one for the Gipper. Space: The Final Frontier. Clap! Clap! Don't let Tink die! __1_

Well, it was time. There was really nothing that I could do except gather up my hoopskirts and get in there. Because really, how bad could it be?

* * *

1 Let's play: Where's that quote from? Answers: _Rudy_, _The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King_, _Knute Rockne: All American, Star Trek_ (duh), and _Peter Pan_.

* * *

How mean am I to make a cliffie? Bwahahaha! Seriously, it won't be long until you know what awaits him inside the Pub.

In the meantime, review me, praise me, poke me with a stick. Just let me hear from you!


	4. When Her Edges Soften

The Unicorn's back door was cracked open slightly, and there was music blaring. My arms were full of bags of food—maybe I'd gone slightly overboard there—so I worked the toe of my shoe into the door and pulled it open.

_First obstacle: four cases of beer in my way. Great. No hands. _I tried to push them out of the way, but they wouldn't budge. "Umm—help?" No one answered, and I'm sure they couldn't hear me over the music. I wasn't sure who was there anyway. "HELP?" I shouted a little louder. A door popped open—Rose's office, I guessed, and two heads popped out. WHAT THE FUCK?? I almost shouted. I realized instantly that Rose's hair was mussed and the other head belonged to…motherfucker son of a diseased whore! That Jacob kid. The one who wasn't supposed to be fucking working. And there he was, slightly sweaty with a major case of Sex Hair. Second obstacle. _You know what would help me in this situation? What's that thing called when you can set shit on fire with your brain? You know, like Drew Barrymore did when she was a toddler, before she got all hot? Mmmmm…Drew Barrymore….fucking_ focus_, Emmett! Or like that hot chick in the _Hellboy_ movies…shit, don't any guys have it? Pyrokinesis! Is this somehow related to the ovaries or something? FUCK! The Human Torch! There you go! Human Torch…he's a dude, and he's apparently even straight. BURN, YOU NATIVE BASTARD, BURN!_

"I didn't mean to interrupt," I said coldly. "Rose asked me to come over and help. I thought _you_ weren't supposed to be here," I said. It sounded like an accusation.

"Change of plans," Jacob said brightly. "Hey! You brought food! HEY, ROSE! HE BROUGHT FOOD!" Jacob bounded up to me like an overeager puppy who'd sighted a pan full of kibble. I hated him.

"So I see." Rosalie came up behind him as Jacob grabbed the bags of food—food I'd carefully selected for _Rose_—and bounded off with them. "Sorry…he never seems to stop eating. I practically have to hide the martini olives and lemon wedges." She shifted the boxes over so that I could come in.

"You don't seem to be doing much work," I said stiffly, nodding to the boxes that still obviously hadn't made it to the large refrigerator. If only something heavy had fallen on Jacob's ass.

Rosalie Hale lifted one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Well, Jacob brought in some new music, and we were giving it a listen. All work and no play makes Rose a dull girl, and all that."

"Really?" I sneered at her slightly. "You might want to check out your hair."

Rose's eyes narrowed dangerously. She looked like a fucking puma ready to pounce, but she turned abruptly away and stomped off to a unisex bathroom at the end of the storeroom. She picked up a brush and raked it through her hair irritably. I could hear the sound of hair ripping from across the room. I sighed. This was not going well. They couldn't have been doing what I think they were doing? Right? Right?

"Fuck, Rose, you're making _my_ scalp fucking bleed." I walked into the small bathroom behind her and took the brush away from her.

Her eyes met mine in the mirror. They looked nearly black and glistened threateningly. If she'd turned to me, bared fangs, and gone for my jugular, I wouldn't have been surprised. "Easy, girl," I said, holding up one empty hand and the brush. "I just want to help."

Her eyes narrowed, but I ignored her, placing one hand on the top of her head. It felt awesome—hard, naturally, but covered in this beautiful silk the color of silver corn. Damn. I began working the brush through her hair gently. I remembered doing the same for my mom when she'd had the broken collarbone. It always made her happy. "You don't have to be like your father, Emmett," she'd once said to me. "You can be gentle and loving—you _are_ gentle and loving. You are _my_ son, not _his_."

And so my mom's son brushed out Rosalie's hair gently, working out all the knots and snags. But my father's son reminded me that those snags were probably there from fucking the help. And anger flared again. Because if they were doing what they _looked_ like they were doing, then I was the biggest patsy ever.

I handed her back the brush abruptly and turned to walk out. "You might want to come along if you want to actually eat. That Jacob kid's probably worked up quite the appetite."

"What the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?" Rose's face was flushed, and she was absentmindedly running her fingers through her hair.

"It means I'm sorry I interrupted," I snapped, and marched off into the office, where Jacob had already opened every container of food and somehow located a paper plate—shit, he probably carried around a pack just in case free food showed up—and was piling mounds of my careful selections onto the plate. I wished I'd poisoned the shit. I imagined him lying face first in the curry. It made me feel a little better.

"You know, I really didn't bring food for three, Jake," I said, not bothering to hide my annoyance. He already had a huge mouthful of butter chicken. I hoped he'd fucking choke on it. _Please let there be a bone in there…a big, splintery bone. _

Rosalie came in behind me. "Yeah, leave some for the rest of us," she said, surveying the table full of Indian food. She still sounded annoyed, but she was still running her fingers through her hair thoughtfully.

I shrugged and reached for the food. When in doubt, eat.

I watched Rose fix a plate. She didn't pull any punches…she took decent servings of almost everything. She passed on the mildest butter chicken, but took a little extra of the spicy stuff. She ate like she enjoyed it. She wasn't shoveling it in like Jake, but she ate with obvious enjoyment. When she finished her tandoori chicken—a leg—she actually sat for a moment and sucked on the end of the bone. _Nice_. "Damn, Emmett McCarty, how did you guess that Tandoor was my favorite restaurant?"

"Really? Just a guess…it was always mine in college." I shifted, suddenly aware that my pants were approximately 8 inches too tight. And, yes, I mean 8 inches. I had a girl measure it once. Want to know Winchester's girth? She measured that, too.

"You went to the University of Washington too, didn't you?" she asked with deliberate

casualness. But I wasn't about to get into that with her, not now, not in front of Jacob _ever_.

"Yeah. But I'm from Tennessee originally." I'd rather talk about my background than get into the college days with her. "So what was blaring when I came in, anyway?"

"Puscifer," Jacob answered. A chunk of chicken came flying out with the P. Nice.

"Gross, Jake," Rose said, with a grimace. "Clean that shit up. This is my _desk_, asshole."

"Sorry," Jake said sheepishly, letting loose another spray of chicken bits.

"Okay, new rule…no talking with your mouth full," Rose said, pointing a fork threateningly in his direction. She punctuated each word with a seriously scary jab of the fork. At least once I thought she was gonna spear his eye. Okay, maybe I _hoped_ she'd spear his eye.

"So, Emmett McCarty. What brought you to Washington from Tennessee?"

"My mom died. Didn't have a reason to stay after that." I was determined to keep this brief. God only knew what she'd do with my sob story if she got her talons in it.

"I'm sorry," she said, and she actually looked it.

"It's her birthday today," I blurted out. I looked up, appalled at the fact that I'd just revealed that. I hadn't even told Ed or Jasper.

Jacob swallowed hard. "My mom died, too. Car accident."

I looked at him. He wasn't fucking joking. I was fully prepared to rip his fucking head off and piss down his neck, but he was clearly serious. The look in his eyes couldn't be faked. "Sucks, don't it?" I said. It was the understatement of the century. The Southern accent was coming out in full force. Talking about Mom always did that, and I didn't want to anymore. Rose looked back and forth between the two of us, not knowing who to pity more, I guess.

"So, do you still need my help, since Cougarbait here decided to show up?" I felt a little bad calling him that after it was out of my mouth, but I was determined to change the fucking subject.

"Hey!" Jacob protested. Rose looked at him forbiddingly: his mouth was full again. He remembered, and snapped it shut.

"I was thinking about sending Jake home since you're here," she said softly. Soft looked weird on Rose.

"Hey, that's fine by me," Jake said, after he swallowed, of course. "Just don't pay him more than you pay me."

Fuck, the mind reeled from the implications. "I'm getting paid? With what?"

They both looked at me. Jake's mouth just kind of hung open for a while. Rose narrowed her eyes in my direction and said, very slowly, as if she were talking to someone who barely spoke English, "With. Free. Drinks. And Jake…" she pointed to him, "Gets paid for barbacking with MONEY."

_Shit,_ she understood what I was getting at. I was suddenly ashamed of myself. I looked down at my plate, wondering how the fuck she made me feel bad. _She_ was the one fucking an employee in her fucking office, after all.

"Maybe this is just too awkward," I said softly.

Jake took this moment to say, "You know what? I don't really know what's going on here, but I'm getting the hell out of it. You gonna be okay with him, Rose?"

"Yeah, Jake, I think I can handle it." Her voice just dripped with sarcasm. "You're not my guard dog. I don't need a guard dog."

Jake said, "Yeah, I know. He might, though."

I looked at him, just pissed off now. "You think you could help me in any way I couldn't help myself?" I flexed, completely unnecessarily.

"I see I'm not needed here," Jake said, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "You guys just try not to kill each other, please. She's my paycheck, you know."

"_Out,_ Jake," Rose said. Ah, _there_ was that note of pissy I'd grown so fond of.

Jake blundered his way out through the back. I heard a motorcycle start up and drive away. Rose and I sat in silence for a while, finishing the food up. Eventually Rose leaned back in her chair and patted her belly. Yes, "belly", and one that looked refreshingly soft and feminine, in contrast to the tight, zero-body-fat abs I had shoved in my face at the gym.

I'd never wanted her more in my life. So I decided to bite the bullet.

"So, what were you and Jake up to before I got here?"

Rosalie Hale's eyes practically shot daggers in my direction. "Clearly not what _you_ were thinking."

I raised my eyebrows. "I don't treat any of my employees the way you treat Jake." I took the holier-than-thou approach.

"What the fuck ever, Emmett McCarty. Jake's my friend. Let me explain this concept to you. A friend is someone that you like, but don't sleep with. You have fun with the person with your clothes actually all in place. I assume you have similar with Edward and Jasper?" She arched an eyebrow at me.

I rolled my eyes in response.

"My point is that you can actually have the same with members of the opposite sex. Hard to believe, isn't it? But you can."

"Fine, fine, point taken. So what were you doing?"

"We were listening to music and dancing and horsing around. I, Rosalie Hale, actually _enjoy_ having fun on occasion."

I picked up the CD case that Jake had left on the desk: _V is for Vagina_. Classy.

"So is this what you were listening to?" I asked.

"Yeah…it's pretty good, actually. We can put it on while we put stuff away, if you want."

"Okay." I couldn't quite believe that she'd actually asked me here to work, but we probably wouldn't get to the point before we did what needed to be done. "Let's get to it, I guess."

The delivery wasn't actually that big. There were a few cases of beer, some kegs, and a case or two of liquor. She got busy unloading the boxes of liquor and putting the stuff away behind the bar while I rolled the kegs into the cooler and hefted the cases of beer into place. I kinda liked the CD that was playing…very heavy bass, kinda hypnotic. It would probably make good workout music; it would make better sex music. I paused and listened to the lyrics of one song:

_Wake up son of mine._

_Momma got somethin' to tell you._

_Change is come._

_Life will have its way_

_With your pride, son._

_Take it like a man.__1_

I actually fucking choked up a little bit. Even though some guy was singing the words, it was like she was there with me in the cooler. I shook my head like an Etch-a-Sketch to get rid of the thoughts. I'd thought about Mom way too much today. It was like picking at a scab: it would never heal if I didn't leave it alone, and it would scar either way.

"Hey, Rose," I called. "You want me to unpack the cases of beer?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind…it'll speed things up when we're open. Just load the sixes into the cooler."

I packed the beer away, admiring the choices she'd made. There was a case of Redhook, a case of Elliot Bay, and one of Hale's Ales, along with some other choices…Anchor, Flying Dog, Left Hand. Good stuff, really.

"You almost done?" I turned, and Rose was leaning against the door of the cooler.

I held up a bottle of Hale's Cream Ale. "Relation?"

"Coincidence." She smiled. "But I like their motto." I looked closer at the bottle: "Think Globally, Drink Locally."

"I try to buy locally whenever I can. People really like local stuff, and the more unusual, the better. Grab two of those, and let's go have a drink at the bar. I've got some time until we open. Alice isn't due in for another hour or so."

I grabbed two cold ones from the front. I'd put the new stuff in at the back. I hoped she'd notice later.

She was sitting at the bar when I got out there. "This stuff is actually my favorite." She had two frosty mugs already waiting. _God, I love this woman. _

I listened to the song playing while Rosalie popped the caps on the beers. She swiveled her hips slightly, clearly absorbed in what she was doing, but still enjoying the beat of the music. I couldn't help thinking what that little swivel would be doing for Winchester if she were sitting in my lap.

_She'll make you cry._

_I'll sell my soul, to be back in your bosom._

_Gladly, now please suck me dry,_

_And still you'll cry, to be back in her bosom_

_To do it again.__2_

She poured out neatly, steep angle, got a beautiful head on the beer. _She gives good head_, I thought to myself. The beer was just the color of her hair. I held it up to the light. "Beautiful," I said out loud.

"I've never been much of a wine girl, but beer…that's the stuff right there." She drank back a long pull and actually smacked her lips a little. I'd never seen anything sexier in my life. I just sat there and looked at her with my mouth hanging open.

Rosalie Hale laughed. "Never seen a girl drink an actual beer? You probably mostly date the Natural Lite drinkers, right? Or maybe that 64-calorie horse piss that Miller has out now?"

Ohmygawd, I was as stiff as a board. I couldn't seem to close my mouth. "That shit reminds me of having sex in a canoe…"

"Because it's fucking close to water?3" she finished, smiling at me over the rim of her mug. "We're agreed on that score, Emmett McCarty. And I wanted to say thanks for coming," Rosalie said, the smile slipping off her face a little. "I wasn't sure that you'd want to, after how I treated you earlier."

_Fuck, I'd like nothing better than to come right now._ "Um, I understand, actually. I know what it must have looked like. And…" _No time like the present_, I thought. "I guess you know about my fraternity in college." I looked out of the corner of my eye at her, but her face didn't give anything away. She was looking down at her beer with a stiff face. "My ex-fraternity, I should say. I guess it didn't have a very good reputation, huh?"

"No, it didn't," she said stiffly.

"I didn't…I wouldn't…" I didn't know how to proceed.

"So were you there when the rape happened?" she asked softly.

"Yes. I was the one who called the cops."

She looked up at me sharply. "You were? So were you the one who took her to the hospital?"

"How do you know so much about that?" I didn't know that anyone knew that I'd gone to the hospital with that girl. _The victim_, I thought.

"I knew her," she said simply, and pressed her lips together in a thin line. She clearly didn't want to elaborate.

"Oh. Yeah, I went with her."

She just sat there for a long time, occasionally sipping her beer. "She was never quite the same after that, you know. She didn't really smile. She did, but…" She sipped again. "Her eyes were all wrong."

"I know that look," I said heavily. _On my mom's face_, I added silently.

"Really?"

I just nodded. "I'm sorry I ever pledged. I would've been better going it alone."

I took a sip of beer, then noticed that Rose was staring at me with a seriously weird look on her face. Suddenly, she launched herself at me, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. A lot. Her hands wound up into my hair, and she made little moaning noises even before I'd recovered enough to respond. I ran my fingers up into her hair, wrapped one arm around her waist. She nearly pulled me off my barstool. _Christ, she's really strong_, I thought. My tongue touched her lips gently, and she immediately opened up, letting my tongue into her mouth and actually sucking on it a little. _Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. _She tasted like the beer we were sharing.

I wanted it to go on and on, but I had to stop it. I did. I couldn't just fuck her right there on the bar, even though I desperately wanted to. More than I'd ever wanted anything ever in my entire life. More than I'd wanted the complete set of GI Joes when I was a kid, more than I'd wanted my Jeep, more than I'd wanted to set fire to my frat house. She meant more to me than that. I wasn't about to fuck it up by treating her like a piece of meat. I brought my hand up to her face and caressed her cheek gently. I pulled back just a little. Her lips were still parted, and she looked—I hoped—slightly disappointed.

I looked into those eyes, and I was just fucking _hooked_. I trailed the backs of my fingers down her neck. She shivered and closed her eyes. "Let's not rush it," I said softly. "Besides, I didn't think you really liked me all that much."

Rosalie looked down. I put my fingers under her chin and gently tilted it back up. I let my lips graze across hers gently. "I know I like you," I said.

Rosalie looked into my eyes. Hers were the color of a late summer afternoon sky…intense blue bordering on purple. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have made a snap judgment about you. And I do like you. More than I should."

I let go of her, and she sank back down onto her barstool. "I made a judgment about you, too. Well, you and Jake."

"Yeah, well. I probably do flirt with him a little. I know he does with me. I'm the boss lady and all. I don't think he knows what to do with a strong woman." Her hand reached out and touched my knee, her fingers absentmindedly drawing little circles on my knee. It gave me goosebumps in places I didn't know you could get them. It was all I could do to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head. Seriously, I've had orgasms that didn't feel that good.

I said something that sounded like, "Well…fya…nta…hmmmm…"

She smiled and cocked her head to one side, that amazing curtain of hair cascading down to her shoulder. _Well fya nta hmmmmm is right_, I thought. "What was that, Emmett McCarty?"

_Fuck it._ I launched myself at her, and we were right back in the middle of it. My hands tangled back in her hair, her nails running up and down my back. I pressed her back into the edge of the bar, and she leaned backward a little, clearly inviting me to look further south, and I trailed my lips down her neck, burying my face in the little crook where her neck met her shoulder. I kissed there, flicked my tongue against it a little. She fucking moaned, and I brought my hand up to cup her left…

And I froze. Winchester threatened to go off at any minute, threatened me with a seriously sore evening, hell, I think at one point he threatened to debone permanently. But I knew we had to stop. _This woman is special_, something in my head told me.

"Rose…" I started to speak, but my face was still buried in her neck.

"Hmmmmmmmm?" she said, and took hold of my hand, bringing it up to the promised land.

_Ohmygawd. Well fya nta hmmmmm_….I couldn't even form a coherent thought. Granted, there was very little blood in my head—well, in _that_ head, at least—at the moment. I could feel the firm lower curve of her breast nestle against my hand. She brought her lips to mine, and she took the lead. Her tongue touched mine again, and it was like electric shock. The rest of the bar faded away, and there was nothing but that soft, talented little tongue pressing against mine, swirling around inside my mouth, and it was all I could do not to come in my pants. I pulled away from her, giving her a last little nip on the bottom lip.

"Okay…I need to sit down for a minute." I wobbled backward and fell heavily onto my stool.

Rose just smiled at me. Her face was the most beautiful shade of pink. I wondered what else on her body was the same shade.

"Okay, I'm sitting down," I said stupidly. She laughed. _Fault not mine is. Head no blood in. Yoda turning into. _

I took another sip of beer. Maybe alcohol would help. "I think we should…go out sometime. Like on a date."

"That's a novel concept."

"What, dating?"

"A guy turning down a sure thing for a date." She leveled a stare at me that would melt chocolate. Sure thing…_seriously?_ I thought Winchester was going to actually bust through my zipper. He was sure knocking, anyway.

"I think we could be more than a hookup," I said, or that's what I meant to say. I guess it was coherent, because she actually nodded. She agreed. Thank God.

"I just don't really have a lot of time for dating, with the bar and all. I work nights."

I sighed. "I know…I work days. And it's busy as hell at the gym right now."

"New Year's rush?"

"Yeah. It settles down the middle of February or so, but the next six weeks are pretty much gonna bite." I thought for a while. "You know what? Fuck it. I just hired some new help, and my manager Garrett's been there practically since we opened, so…maybe I can take an afternoon. Thursdays aren't very busy…"

"They're not very busy here, either. Maybe Alice and Jake could cover opening for me. You know, so I didn't have to rush off early or anything. Some things should just happen," and she started up with the knee thing again, "Naturally."

I closed my eyes to enjoy the feelings, but almost the minute that I did, we heard the back door open and a clear musical voice call out, "Rosalie!"

Rose sighed. "Alice is here."

"So I hear."

"Are you going to hang out tonight?" she asked, attempting casualness, I thought, but falling short of the mark.

"I can't think of any place I'd rather be," I said quite honestly, giving her a quick peck on the tip of the nose, and sat back to enjoy the rest of my beer, and the view as Rose walked away. Free beer, and the promise of a date with Rosalie Hale? It was shaping up to be an awesome night at the Unicorn Pub.

1 Puscifer, Momma Sed. _V is for Vagina_, 2007.

2 Puscifer, Rev. 22:20 (Dry Martini Mix), _V is for Vagina_, 2007

3 Idle, Eric. "The Bruces' Philosophers' Song", _Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl_, 1982


	5. Kill Me Romantically

A/N: So I've been a little down lately. I admit it. Real Life has gotten in the way of regular updates and of fully appreciating my readers. I shall be better! (But on that note, does anyone want to babysit? Anyone? Bueller?)

Thanks as always to my fellow ITDOALS authors. You are the shit, but in a good way. To all the UUers, who make me laugh every freakin' day. And most especially to Sarah, my Fearless Beta, and Feisty, Mistress of Awesome, who work so hard to keep my head above water. Two chest thumps and a peace sign.

* * *

One thing about free beer: It's free. That is, it's free, so there's no limiting factor on how much you drink. Alice the tiny bartender kept them coming my way, sending a waitress around now and then, mixing up what I got…sometimes something on tap, sometimes a bottle of something new, once a perfectly poured black-and-tan that I watched for a while, gently tipping the glass back and forth to watch the two beers move together. And that made me think of my body pressed against Rose's, which once more set Winchester to knocking. I must have had a stupid grin on my face, because I got another one the next time the waitress came by.

I had never spent a lot of time in a bar alone. It was actually kind of pleasant. Now and then Rose would saunter by and tangle her fingers in my hair, occasionally pulling a little, pleasure and pain wrapped up together in one sexy bundle. I was free most of the time to just soak in the atmosphere and watch the people.

I really didn't have high hopes for a bar called the "Unicorn Pub." But this place, I had to admit, was one of the best bars I'd ever been to. It was gorgeous inside, all leather and wood, and it was always immaculately clean. There was no smoking in there…granted, there hadn't been smoking in bars for a couple of years, but no one would dare light up after they'd had a few, like they would in some bars I'd been in. The minute that thought entered my head, some drunk asshole lit up, and Rose marched over herself—she didn't send a bouncer or anything—and said something to the guy that made him turn white as a ghost, immediately douse the cigarette in what had been a mostly full, certainly expensive mixed drink, and make his way to the door. Some of his friends stared openmouthed at his retreat, and others stared warily at Rose marching back off to stand behind the bar. _Damn, I want this woman. _

The bonus to the name was that there were a ton of women in the bar. I doubt Rose would put up with guys making unwanted advances toward her female patrons. And a few women were clearly there to meet other women. There was a pair near me who began making out pretty thoroughly. I had to work really hard not to stare. Not because I had a problem with it—hell, I thought all women should be encouraged (often and loudly) to make out with one another—but because they were so into it, and they were both hot, and there really hadn't been blood in my brain for at least an hour. _Fuck me, was that _tongue? They broke off mid-kiss and waved at me a little_. Shit, I made a noise, didn't I?_

"Enjoying the view, are we, Emmett McCarty?" Rose was standing in front of my table, looking down at me with one eyebrow arched.

"It's even better now that you're here," I said, going for charming. I may have let the Southern boy ooze on out a little, and it must have worked, because her cheeks flushed. _God, she's beautiful when she does that. And holy shit, do I love making her _do_ it. _

"Yeah, well, the special tonight isn't lesbian under glass, so why don't you rein in the drool a little before you lose me a customer?"

"Yes, ma'am!" I said crisply, giving her a little salute. "So…did I make a noise just then?"

She threw her head back and laughed. I could listen to that laugh all day: loud and deep and throaty, with just a little bit of braying horse thrown in. Nice. _Wait, she's been laughing a long time._ I glanced over at the lesbians. They were giggling, too. _Shit, how long have they been giggling?_

"Um…so what did I say?" I asked, trying to be cool, but beginning to panic.

Rose wiped her eyes daintily with a bar napkin that was sitting there. "Let's see…something like 'I don't have a problem with it…all women should be encouraged to make out often and loudly…was that tongue?'" She started giggling, building up to the horse laugh again.

Fuck me. I'd been talking out loud.

"Anyway, just keep the leering to a minimum, please. I'll lose my reputation if I let my boyf…" She stopped and turned massively red. "I mean, if I let you leer at my customers. I mean, most guys, I'd kick out…but, I mean, I want you to stay, is what I mean."

Goddamn. She started to say "boyfriend." I heard it. You heard it, right? "Boyfriend." I let out an hysterical giggle. I sounded like a deranged schoolgirl.

Rose's blush had spread to her part and her neck. "My red, red Rose," I said, and giggled some more. Yep, those black-and-tans had definitely kicked in.

"Yeah, yeah. I've got to…go…see if Alice needs anything." Rose stood, clearly embarrassed, but I was still sufficiently reeling over the fact she'd just said "boyf" to notice. She said, "I'll have Alice send you over some water. You're drinking me out of house and home."

Shit, she was starting to snap again. "Don't be like that, Rosie. I was just…surprised." I took hold of her wrist as she was trying to get away, and tugged her over to me, pulling her down on my lap. She resisted a little at first, but finally snuggled into me with a sigh. I kissed her gently on the cheek. "I'm sorry I teased," I whispered in her ear, grazing her earlobe with my lips. She shivered.

"Okay, okay. I gotta get back to work." She leapt up out of my lap like it was on fire—well, it kinda was on fire, if by "on fire" you meant "standing at full attention." She scuttled across the floor, hurtling herself at a startled-looking Alice to presumably order me some water, and then disappeared into the back.

I looked at the lesbians, who were starting to paw at one another again. "I make her nervous," I said to them, and they started giggling again.

The waitress brought over a water. "The boss says I need to cut you off," she said apologetically.

"Yeah, the boss told me that, too," I said, and she looked relieved that I was taking it so well.

I forced myself not to watch the lesbians next door, and settled in to watch Alice do her thing for a bit. She was moving quickly, lightly, around the bar. She was like a dancer, sometimes putting a little spin or skip into the middle of a movement. She looked a lot happier than she'd looked last time I'd seen her, and I bet I knew why. I'd seen that same dopey look on Jasper's face lately too. It was kind of fascinating watching her. She anticipated drink orders. It wasn't just that she was fast…there were times she was actually already starting on the drink before the waitress got there. She was probably just seeing the waitress coming from a repeat table, but still. It was almost spooky.

Alice was a good woman. I could see why Jasper was hooked, walking around with that shit-eating grin he'd had since New Year's. I sighed, wishing I hadn't given him such hell. Because once the aching in my pants wore off—probably after a cold shower and an hour of alone time—I was gonna have the same fucking grin. And I was pretty sure I'd have to take a big steaming serving of what I'd been dishing out for a week. Totally worth it, though.

The night began to pass. I called the waitress over after a while, and ordered a coffee. It was poured before she got to the bar. _Maybe she reads lips,_ I thought. But shit, I hadn't seen her look my way_. Interesting, very interesting. _

When Rose finally made her way back over to my table, the bar had begun to empty out.

"I'm surprised you're still here," she said, collapsing with a moan into the chair opposite.

"Nowhere I'd rather be," I said.

She smiled, blushing again. "You seem to have sobered up," she said.

"Yep. Alice makes a mean cup of coffee."

"She really does, doesn't she? I don't ever drink coffee at home. I'd rather have hers. I buy good beans, but she just gets it perfect every time. And I've never seen her measure it out or anything."

"Does she, like, read minds or something? See the future? Read lips?"

Rose smiled. "You've noticed the drink thing, haven't you? I've never seen a bartender like her. I don't know how she does it. I asked her once, and I think it made her self-conscious, because she slowed down for a few nights. She's really secretive about a lot of things."

"You know she's seeing my roommate, Jasper?"

"I know…he's here a lot. Don't tell him I gave you free drinks. I make him pay." She winked at me.

"He's really into her, you know."

"I got that impression last time he was here. Is he a good guy?"

"The best," I said, and I meant it.

She seemed to know that, and she said, "Good. It would be awkward if I had to remove his testicles with a butter knife."

I winced a little, and she laughed.

"So, Emmett McCarty, where should we go on this date?"

"I don't know…Ice Capades?"

"Yeah….no."

"Where does a sexy thing like you go for fun?"

"There's a car show at Qwest Field this weekend. Hot rods and stuff."

I was stunned. I mean…stunned.

"Really? You'd want to do that?"

"It's been on my calendar for a while. I like cars," she said, and shrugged.

Stunned. "Okay…so…dinner and the car show? Or should we do car show first and then dinner?"

"Well, I gotta be here at least part of the evening. The show doesn't officially start until around 6:00, but I can get us in a little early."

Stunned. "Um…okay. So what time?"

"Let's hit the show around 4:00. Everybody will be there by then…at least most of them will. Vendors won't be set up yet, but I'm not in the market for parts. Are you?"

I mean, just…stunned.

"Um…no?"

"Close your mouth, Emmett McCarty. Girls can like cars, too."

I just…kept picturing her leaning under the hood of a car, short cutoffs riding up….

"Okay. I was just…" Stunned. "Surprised," I finished stupidly.

"It's a date," she said, and kissed me lightly, playfully, on the lips. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm beat," she kissed me again, on the cheek, "and I gotta get home to bed."

I looked around. There were, at most, five people left.

"Are you going to close up?"

"No, I opened. Alice will close, and one of the bouncers will make sure she gets to the bus stop okay, since your dashing friend isn't here."

"Okay, good. I wouldn't want her walking to her car alone," I said.

"Bus," she corrected.

"Whatever," I said, and kissed her on the mouth, hard. Our tongues wrestled together for a seriously long time, and then, too soon, she was pushing me away.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" she said.

"Call me when you get home," I said. "So I'll know you made it okay."

She smiled. "I can take care of myself, you know. But I will. So you'll feel better."

"Good," I said, and leaned in for another kiss.

She dodged me. "If we start that again, we'll never get out of here," she said, giggling a little. _I fucking love that sound. _"Have you sobered up enough to drive?"

It had been a couple of hours since I had my last drink. "I think so," I said, standing. It had been a while since I stood up. Things were not as stable as I'd like them to be. "Um…well…on second thought," I said, and dropped back into my seat.

"Well, I supposed I could give you a ride," she said. "Your Jeep will be safe here. It's a good neighborhood. Can someone come with you to pick it up in the morning?"

"We have a system in place," I said. She looked at me, confused. "Ed and Jasper and I. We do this all the time."

"Okay," she said. "Let me go get my purse."

"I'll hit the bathroom and meet you…"

"In my office," she said.

Going to the bathroom was easier said than done. I really needed to go…coffee on top of water on top of beer on top of beer on top of beer made for one seriously full bladder. But a protesting and sore Winchester made for difficulties. You ever seen that movie _The 40-Year Old Virgin_? Then you know what I mean.

Once I'd managed not to piss on my own chin, I wandered back to the office, where Rose was waiting.

"That must have been some peeing," she said. "I thought only women took that long in the bathroom." She sounded irritated, but she was smiling.

"Well, I had to freshen up, adjust the lipstick. You're about to wear it off me, woman!"

As if on cue, we were kissing some more. Fuck me, it was like high school again. Action up above, pain down below.

A little "hem, hem" attracted our attention, and we broke it off. Alice stood in the doorway. "Locking up," she said, then disappeared. Her retreating footsteps sounded like she was skipping.

"I guess that's our cue, Emmett McCarty." Rose tilted her head back and gazed up at me, her red (and slightly swollen) lips curved in a smile.

"Guess so. Lay on, McDuff!"

"What?" She looked at me, confused.

"I dunno. Something Jasper says all the time." I shrugged and looked around for her car, but all I saw was a bright red BMW. "Hey! A Beamer! What's the difference between a porcupine and a Beamer?"

Rosalie looked icy, but it was a good joke, so I kept going. "With a porcupine, the pricks are on the outside." She wasn't laughing, so I tried to stop. I coughed a little. "So, where are you parked?" She just kept staring at me, and held out her key chain, pressed a button, and the BMW let out a cheerful little "beep beep." I wondered if that was the last sound I was ever going to hear. I stood there looking at the car stupidly, frankly a little afraid to look Rosalie's way. Her hair might have turned to snakes.

"Um, Emmett McCarty? Perhaps you should get in. It's a Beamer. The pricks go on the inside."

I smacked my forehead. _Always stepping in it with my big mouth._ "All right. Take this prick home!"

She laughed again as I fumbled around to move my seat back. I finally found the button and moved it back as far as it would go. "Hmmm," Rosalie said. "I didn't even know it would go back that far."

"Haven't tested the front seat yet?" I grinned at her.

She smacked my arm, but lightly. I had the feeling she could do some damage if she really wanted to.

She peeled out of the drive and made her way across the surface streets toward the house. I was surprised, but she didn't have to ask me for directions. Interesting.

I spent the drive just looking at her. Her profile, the blonde curls framing her face, the traffic lights reflected in her eyes. She was beautiful.

And it was better than looking straight ahead and paying attention to where we were going, because, _damn_. That woman drove like a bat out of hell. We squealed tires going around every curve, after every red light. When we finally pulled up in front of the house, it hurt to straighten out my hands, I'd been white-knuckling for so long.

"Here we are, Emmett McCarty."

"Here we are," I agreed.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" she said.

"Working. Did you have something in mind?" I asked, hoping maybe she had the same thing in mind I'd had in mind all night.

"I just thought, since you'd spent the evening in my place of business, maybe I'd come by and check out yours."

"Hmmm…" I wasn't sure what to say. I mean, I wanted to spend every minute with Rose possible, but with two of the Denalis now working for me…I just wasn't sure I wanted her in the same room as Kate. _Too much history there. Past and future shouldn't meet. Holes might rip in the space/time continuum. The universe might end. Rose might just rip a hole in my ass. Well, another hole, because there's already one…shit, how long has she been looking at me like that?_

"Earth to Space Cadet McCarty," she said, reaching out and knocking on my forehead, hard.

"Ummm…yeah, that would be okay. It's the Ursa Major Gym. It's over on…"

"Oh, I know where it is," she said brusquely. How did she know that? Was she some kind of sexy stalker? I thought about her Googling me and hoped she didn't find those pictures that Garrett took at the Christmas party two years ago, the ones where I was attempting to make out with a plastic Mrs. Claus. In my defense, Mrs. Claus was pretty stacked, and I've always liked the older ladies.

Again, a lot of time must have passed since I'd spoken.

"Do you not want me to go?" she said quietly, looking suddenly, alarmingly unsure of herself. The expression was truly bizarre on Rose. Like watching Wonder Woman suddenly burst into tears, crying because her underarm flab jiggled when she threw her lasso. Weird.

"What? What are you talking about?" Did she really think that I was ashamed to show her off to Garrett and the crowd at the gym? "I just don't want the sweaty gym apes scaring you off." I reached out and touched her face gently, and she seemed to relax.

"Oh, I can handle sweaty gym apes. I handle you, don't I?" She leaned forward and kissed me, gently, sweetly, on the lips. "Good night, Emmett McCarty."

I could tell I was being dismissed, so I reluctantly got out of the car. Which was saying something. Her driving was scary enough that if anybody else was driving, I'd've bailed out into a ditch that first left-hand turn she took.

I was halfway up the walk when she peeled away. I stood for a moment on the top step of the house, marveling at how different it looked than it had that afternoon when I'd left, at how different everything looked, now that I was officially dating Rosalie Hale.

And at that moment, the shit-eating grin spread slowly, determinedly, across my face.

Yup. The shit the guys would dish out was gonna be totally worth it.


	6. She Moves Through Moonbeams Slowly

Thanks once more to sareeswfla, the beta fishee to end all beta fishees. UUers! Look! I wrote something! And to all my readers and lovers of Emmett, sorry it's been so very long.

* * *

Morning came all too soon. In spite of the water Rose had so smartly insisted upon the night before, my head throbbed before I even lifted it off my pillow.

It was going to be a long morning.

I'd avoided the guys when I came in the house the night before, but they knew I'd been with Rose yesterday, and I wondered if Alice had said anything to Jasper about what she'd seen in Rose's office. Doubtful, I thought, since they were so wrapped up in one another; the concerns of the outside world probably never rocked their happy little bubble, or so I hoped would be the case_. _

I'd showered the night before, because Winchester wouldn't have let me go to sleep unless I took care of business. So, after shaking hands with the governor for approximately 2.5 seconds, he at least retreated to half-staff. This morning, though, he was back with a vengeance, and I knew I'd have to take care of it again.

It was like high school again. Too many long nights making out with no release. Brutal.

I made sure the door was locked—I still hadn't quite recovered from the time that Edward walked in on me in college. He was pissed, and if it hadn't been embarrassing for me, it would have been funny. I'd accidentally brought his towel into my room, and I may have been wearing his shirt at the time. Okay, I probably would have been pissed, too. The room smelled like Edward's lavender-scented bleach for _days _after that.

At least I had a lot of good soft-core porn material still lodged firmly in my head from the night before. _Head. That's funny._ Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Rose's hair, Rose's lips, felt her lips on mine, her tongue moving against mine, her body pressed up against me, searching for some kind of release. I felt that firm curve of her breast nestled in my hand again…

Done.

I cleaned myself off, got up and dressed, and headed to the kitchen to take what I'd been dishing out.

They were waiting for me at the table, each holding a cup of coffee to their lips, looking at me like two expectant old ladies. Jasper pushed out the chair in front of him with his foot. "Come. Sit. Chat with us," he said, grinning. Clearly, he wasn't going to make this easy.

"Coffee first. I have a raging hangover," I said, and Ed and Jasper exchanged looks.

I shuffled to my seat at the table. Jasper clasped his hands underneath his chin like a teenage girl at a slumber party. "Okay, spill! De-tails! De-tails!"

"What, Old Lady Whitlock?"

"You were gone all day, most of the night…you don't have visible bite marks…" Jasper began.

"Visible being the key word," added Edward.

"Ah, true, true," said Jasmine.

And then it happened, just as I'd known it would: the grin spread across my face.

"Oh, well, then. Look at that! Did we perhaps defrost the barmaid?" Edwina waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"She's not a barmaid. She owns the place." I was trying to wipe that shit off my face, but it just wasn't working.

"Don't pick on Em's girlfriend. He gets testy," Jasmine said.

"You said 'teste'," giggled Edwina.

"Oh, good Lord," I muttered darkly, taking a sip of my coffee and massaging my temples.

"Now, Ed, this is a serious thing. We should probably give him the talk."

"Oh, quite right, Jazz."

"Now, Emmett, you may be having some feelings that you don't quite understand…"

"…tingling…"

"…And that's only natural when you meet a girl that you like. What Ed and I want to be sure of is that you're being safe," Jazz continued.

"So, we went to the store and bought you some protection," Ed said, grinning widely. He pulled a large, grocery-sized bag out from under the table.

I just looked at it. I knew it wouldn't be good.

"I see you know my condom size. Handy," I said, trying to regain the upper hand. (Maybe I shouldn't have used the words "condom" and "handy" in the same sentence right then.)

They both snickered and waited for me to open the bag.

I sighed, and reached into it, pulling out…a bicycle helmet and a cup. They both cracked up. Okay, I did too. It was pretty funny.

"So how much did this bit of prop comedy set you back at Dick's anyway?" Shit. "Dick's" should probably be off-limits, too.

"Forty well-spent dollars," Jazzephine said.

"Yep, totally worth it," said Edith.

I rolled my eyes, and noticed that the cup was a kid's size. Assholes.

"Fine, fine, so she's a little bit of a handful."

"More than a handful's a waste, though, eh? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge?" Jasper was pulling out the Python. (Okay, maybe I shouldn't say "pulling" and "python" in the same sentence right now either.)

"So, seriously, how did it go?" Edwina asked.

"Better than _your_ last interaction with her, I'd say. I still have both balls," I said coolly.

"Ah, do you now?"

"Did you get along? Alice said you were there most of the night," Jasper said. I studied him closely: he didn't seem to know anything that had gone on. Good girl, Alice was. "I don't know how you can afford it. Rose's drinks are pretty dearly priced." Excellent girl, that Alice.

"She had a drink special on last night," I said. I was pretty sure that was true.

"Did you talk to her much?" Ed asked.

"Yes, I did."

"What about?"

"Stuff. She was pretty sure you were gay. She was going to set you up with this guy she knows. Beer supplier. Big bulge in his pants, nice ass. She thought you'd like him," I said.

"Har-dee-har-har."

"What do you want to know? We talked, we got along, and we have a date on Thursday."

"A date! Our little Emmy, going on a date," Jazzifer Garner said, wiping tears from her eyes.

"You know, I don't think I rode you that hard about that Alice chick," I said defensively.

"But how hard did you ride Rose?" Ed said. Again with the fucking eyebrows.

"Save a horse, ride a Rosalie?" Jazz said.

"I have heard that, yes, Jazz," Ed replied.

"Maybe I'll just call Rose and tell her about this little conversation," I said.

"Oh, is big Em going to hide behind his girlfwiend?"

"Okay, that's it. Have a good day, ladies, I'm off to the gym," I said, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "Edie Brickell, Princess Jasmine, have a good day."

"Okay, Emma," said Edwina. "Jasmine, would you care to take this magic carpet ride with me?"

"Oh, I'll leave the magic carpet ridin' to Em. I'm pretty sure he and Rose can take care of that."

Edwina got up to pour cereal as I left the room, humming what sounded like "A Whole New World" to himself.

_Fuckers. Ah, well, I guess I have to take it if I'm going to dish it out, right?_ I scooped up the dirty towel from the floor of the room, walked across to Edward's and deposited it in his laundry. I'd save the next for Jasper.

I got dressed quickly for the gym. I didn't know if Rose was actually going to come by the gym today, but the thought of it made my stomach fill with tiny little butterflies. What am I, a teenage girl? I shook off the feeling, thought once, thought twice, and actually sprayed on a little cologne. Just a little. I didn't need the Resolutionaries passing out when they huffed and puffed a little Game Spirit instead of oxygen.

I passed Jazz in the hall. He took an exaggerated sniff, and opened his mouth.

Before he could say anything, I said, "Look, dude, truce. Yes, I like this girl. A lot. Yes, I'm totally wearing cologne to work at a gym like a serious pussy. And yes, I have my work cut out for me. What you have for Alice, though, is a lot like what I have for Rose. And last time I checked, I've kept my nose out of your girl's pixie-sized ass. So let's stop busting each others' chops, okay?"

Jasper's mouth just hung open. Slowly, he nodded his head. "I didn't know you were so serious about this."

"Well, until I saw Alice in action last night, I didn't know _you_ guys were so serious," I returned.

"How did you know?" he asked eagerly, before he dialed it down a notch, looking sheepish.

"She had the same dumbass grin you have on your face all the time these days."

His face slowly turned pink and the grin found its way back. "There you go, son," I said, and clapped him a hearty one on the back. I started down the hall, and tossed back over my shoulder, "Ed's still fair game, though. I think he has a crush on that cake girl. Now come with me to get my Jeep."

I checked myself in the mirror by the door that Ed put up for his last-minute primp. At this rate, I'd be asking him for hair tips by the end of the week. _How do you get those amazing tousled locks, Ed?_

"You look lovely, Em," said Jasper. I sighed.

"Shut the fuck up, and let's go, before I start in on you again, twat-waffle," I replied.

The ride to the bar was pretty uneventful. Jazz was always pretty good about knowing when someone just needed space to think. And he gave me that, for about half the ride.

"So, you think Alice is a good egg, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. I can see it," I said. "There's something about her."

"Yeah," he sighed, "There really is."

I laughed. "We don't have to have, like, a heart-to-heart right now, do we?"

"No. I just…think she's important, that's all."

"I know what you mean, brother."

The alley behind the bar was deserted. A part of me hoped that Rose would be there for some reason this morning, but no dice. A look at Jasper's face told me he'd hoped something similar about Alice. I chose to pass on the dig, and instead just said, "Have a good one."

"You too," he said. I hoped I'd be successful at holding up my end of the truce. Ed was always more fun to pick on anyway.

I got in the Jeep and as I started it up, noticed there was a note under the wiper.

_Emmett McCarty—_

_I had a good time with you this evening. Try not to screw up Thursday, all right? _

_Rosalie _

I couldn't help myself. I smelled the fucking thing. It had been on my windshield all night, I guess. It was curled a little, and smelled mostly like cold.

I folded it carefully and slid it into my wallet so that I'd keep up with it. If it hit the floor of the Jeep, it would be lost in a pile of energy bar wrappers and water bottles, and that note was something that I wanted to hold onto.

I was at the gym before I knew it. Irina was behind the desk already.

"So how did things go yesterday? Were Kate and Garrett fucking on a weight bench by the end of the day?"

"Practically. I thought I'd have to hose them down there for a while. They at least stayed out of the locker room until everyone was gone."

"Well, here's hoping they bleached whatever surface they got busy on. Any messages?"

"Not up here. I put a few calls through to your voice mail, though," Irina said. She sipped her coffee. "By the way, I think Tanya might come in today. She says she's bored waiting for the insurance settlement to come through."

"Great." _Fuck_ was more like it. The last thing I wanted was Kate, Tanya, and Rose in the same room together. It was bad enough they were in the same state.

I went back to the office and checked the messages, and sure enough, there was one from Tanya. "Emmmmmmmmmmmett," she said, going for that breathy, throaty thing she was so good at, "I could really use a little work. It's so boring here all alone. I mean, a girl can only take so many candlelit baths all alone. And if you won't come see me, I'll just have to come see _you."_

That did not sound good. The trouble with Tanya being "bored" was that she always manufactured some kind of drama to entertain herself. And it sounded like she wanted me to star in this one. Shit. This was so not the day for it.

I picked up the phone. Maybe I could head it off at the pass. No answer.

"Well, you do know how to dial the phone," purred a horrifyingly familiar voice from the doorway. "I was beginning to wonder."

"Tanya. Hi," I said. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck a duck!_

"Hi, big boy," she oozed.

"So…so…I hear from Irina that you need some work to keep you busy."

"Well, when I'm bored, getting busy does usually make me…happier."

Tanya was, as always, subtle as a neon sign on a dark street in the red-light district that flashed "SKANK! SKANK!" I couldn't believe I'd ever found this attractive.

"What I could probably use is someone to give tours to the newbies. I know Garrett has quite a few training sessions today, and I have some paperwork to catch up on, but Kate's around here somewhere, and she can show you the ropes, okay?" I sounded nervous, which was bad. Tanya always read nerves as sexual attraction. Hell, she read a sneeze as sexual attraction. She wasn't exactly lacking in confidence.

"Am I making you…nervous?" She stepped forward, and the back of her hand lightly grazed the front of my shorts.

"Tanya, I'm seeing someone else. And whatever we had going before, that's been over for a long time. Now, I don't mind giving you a job, but that's all it is. It's a paycheck and a way for you to keep busy." She opened her mouth for some other oversexed commentary, but I held up a hand to stop her. "I'm serious, Tanya. Job only. Take it or leave it."

Tanya's lower lip puffed out in what she imagined was a sexy little pout. It looked more like a pufferfish with an underbite.

"I mean it." I was determined to be firm, but there was no way in hell I was going to use the word "firm" around Tanya.

"Fine. Be that way." She turned and flounced out. I wasn't sure if she was going to take the job or not, and I didn't really care. Well, that wasn't entirely true. I'd be pretty happy if she disappeared right about now. I couldn't run the risk of her performing her little routine in front of Rose. My holier-than-thou, anti-fraternization speech that I'd given Rose about Jacob replayed in my head. _Yeah, I don't treat my employees the way she treats Jacob_, I thought. _Apparently, I fuck them all before I give them a job. Christ, I'm a douche._

I checked my messages. There were two slimy ones from Tanya (delete), four from potential new members (forward to Garrett's mail box), and one that made my heart stop. Rose.

"Thanks for last night. It's been a while since I had that much fun at work. I was thinking about coming by around lunchtime, and you can show me around and maybe we can grab a bite? Call me later," she said, and left her number.

I glanced at the clock. It was only eight o'clock. She'd left the message last night, I guessed, before she went to bed. I decided to take the chance and call, see if she was up. There was no way I could pass up the chance to be with her again, even if I ran the risk of old relationships running smack into my new one. _Maybe I can time this so that Tanya's out when Rose comes in. That's probably best. _

She answered on the third ring.

"Hello?" she said. Her voice was dry and raspy. It was way hot, but it was also clear I'd woken her up. I tried not to get distracted by a mental image of Rose tangled up in her sheets.

"Hi, it's Emmett."

"Oh, hi, Emmett," she said, and made a little groan. She was stretching. I had to try really hard not to think about that, too. Popping wood within a twenty-mile radius of Tanya was dangerous. She could sense an erection like a shark could sense blood in the water. She smelled them or something. Or maybe she had an extra sensory organ. I didn't even want to guess where that would be located.

"I got your message, and I think that would be okay. I usually go to lunch around 1:00, if I go at all. I let everybody else go first."

"What an accommodating boss you are," she said, mumbling a little. _You have no idea_, I thought. _Christ, I'm a douche._

"Yeah, well, treat them nice and they treat you nice, right?"

"That's just what I was saying last night." Yawn.

"Well, nice to a point, right?"

"Nice to a point," she agreed.

"Well, it sounds like I woke you, so I'll let you get back to sleep," I said.

"M'kay." She was still groggy.

"You'll remember this later, right?"

"Mmmm-hmmmm."

"All right, see you later…1:00, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, night-night."

"G'night John Boy," she said with a little giggle. That little giggle was sexier than anything Tanya had uttered _ever_. _Maybe I'll just stay right here,_ I thought, glancing down at the tent in my pants. _I really need to consider tightie whities_.

I spent the rest of the morning doing boss stuff: finishing up some paperwork, getting people's direct deposits worked out, entering data into the computer, inputting employee hours into the payroll system. It was 11:00 before I got up again. The paperwork had tamed Winchester enough that Tanya wouldn't attack. _Maybe_.

I walked out to the gym, hoping I'd find time for a jog, only to scan the place and realize that Kate and Garrett were both missing. Irina was at the desk, and Tanya was sauntering around, showing a practically drooling guy how to use the thigh machine, a task that mostly involved spreading her legs and closing them again. The closing muscles needed some work. The look on the guy's face indicated he'd pony up the cash for any contract she asked him to, though. Maybe having Tanya around would end up being a good business decision.

I sighed, wondering where I'd find my missing employees. I went into the men's locker room, but other than a middle-aged guy in a towel, it was empty. I knocked on the women's door, and when I got no answer, stuck my head in and called, "Kate? Garrett?" No answer.

Where the fuck were they? I walked across the weight room to the classroom, and heard grunts and groans. _Don't tell me they're fucking in the classroom thirty minutes before an aerobics class starts._

I opened the door, and I would have sworn that they were fucking if they didn't have all their clothes on. Garrett was attempting to teach Kate to grapple. He considered it his specialty, but Kate was getting the better of him. She was sprawled on top of him, pinning him in a very effective mount. Garrett was enjoying himself, clearly, but he was trying to lift his hips to throw her off. She was like a spider monkey, all long legs and arms, and he was beginning to freak a little. He finally managed it, rolling her off, but she locked her guard, wrapping her long legs around his waist. He worked on getting his elbows inside her knees to push them open, but they were like steel bands, and he just wasn't making it. Finally he broke guard, and climbed on her in a mount. The look of victory was short-lived, though, and soon enough, he was back on his back, Kate on top. She didn't even seem to be sweating that much. Suddenly, she slithered forward on his body, hovered for a moment right over his face (he looked hopeful for a second), then she wrapped a leg around his neck and one of his arms. His face began to turn purple, but he was refusing to tap out.

"Well, well. Triangle choke, right?" I asked Kate. She smiled broadly.

"He's 'teaching' me to grapple," she said sarcastically.

"Well, I do need a trainer on duty today, so if you don't mind releasing him, I'd appreciate it."

"He hasn't tapped out," she said, squeezing him a little tighter. Garrett's eyes bulged.

"You're sitting on his face, Kate. Do you really think he's going to tap out of that?"

She laughed, and finally relented. Garrett stayed down, panting.

"How did this start, anyway?" I asked, trying not to laugh my ass off.

"He was talking about his ultimate fighting aspirations, and offered to show me some moves. Because a little thing like me wouldn't know anything about grappling, right, G?"

"You…never…said…" Garrett puffed.

"So where did you learn all that?" I asked, surprised that I didn't know that about Kate either.

"I've been taking all kinds of martial arts since I was about seven. It's down to just Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu right now. At Ring Demon."

"You…fight…at…Ring…Demon?" Garrett still couldn't catch his breath.

"Yep," she said happily.

_Why does that ring a bell?_ I wondered. I'd seen that name recently, but I couldn't place it. I shook my head. "Well, Kate, help him up, and then wipe the floor there, please. We've got a class starting in twenty minutes now. Tammy hates it when the floor's damp."

Kate saluted me, and hefted Garrett to his feet. He stumbled out of the room to get some water and try to regain his pride.

"You know you'll have to make that up to him later. Garrett's fighting abilities are his most prized asset."

"I know. I got carried away. I just hate it when guys assume girls can't fight." She launched into some lengthy diatribe about the fact that girls' MMA fights were only three rounds, and guys' were five. I rolled my eyes and left the room, determined to do at least thirty on the treadmill while I had a minute.

And, would wonders never cease? I actually managed it. Tanya slithered over only once to offer me a towel. I didn't see any harm in taking it, so I did. She gave me a little wave as she simpered away. I noticed how many eyes followed her…most of the guys, and a couple of girls as well.

I hit the showers after, repeated my slightly humiliating teenage-boy cologne spritz, and went to check my messages. None. I checked with Irina, and she had a few more new recruits to enter into the system. Tanya poked her head in my office to ask if she and Irina could go to lunch. "Sure," I said, relieved, and hoping she'd saunter her ass out of there, and quickly, "Just get Kate to cover the desk for you. Is Garrett among the living?"

She nodded, her little half-smile that she thought was sexy plastered in place. "Sure you don't want to join us, Boss?"

I nodded. "I have plans later. Have a good lunch," I said. _Keep it business-like_, I thought. Tanya left, her pufferfish underbite in place.

Soon enough, I realized that it was 1:00. Rose should be here any minute.

I left my desk, only to find her at the front desk already. Talking to Kate.

_Not good not good not good._ I picked up the pace, and paused, to realize that Rose was wearing a t-shirt that said "RING DEMON," stretched tight across her chest. _Oh, holy God. So. Not. Good._

"Hi!" she said. "I didn't know Kate worked here." She nodded toward Kate. I looked at her for explanation, my brain slowly wrapping itself around the fact that the woman I wanted to be, to sound like a perfectly dorktastic junior-high-schooler, my girlfriend, knew Kate, my former…urm….grappling partner.

"She's in the Tuesday night jiu jitsu class," Kate said.

"Oh. I didn't know you were into martial arts, Rose," I said.

"I started out in self-defense in college, but I kinda got into it," she said. "The discipline and exercise are great. I'm nowhere as good as Kate here, though. She was state champion last year."

It was a day for surprises.

"Well, why don't I show you around?" I said. I was determined to make this as quick as possible. Tanya was busy, but I could see her watching us from across the room. She did not look happy. And the only way Tanya could deal with being unhappy was to make someone else unhappier as quickly as possible. My guess would be that she wouldn't leave any time soon, not when there was a show to watch. I gestured around, "There's the weight room, the classroom, cardio, offices, and the locker rooms are in the back," I said. "I'm really hungry, are you ready to go?"

"Ummm…that's your idea of a tour? C'mon…show me around like I'm a prospective newbie." I glanced around. Tanya was shaking hands with the guy she'd been showing around. She already had the papers in hand and was walking him toward Irina at the desk. She'd be free any second. "How do you ever get new recruits if you don't spend some time showing them the place?" She took my hand and tugged me over to the weight room.

"This isn't really my thing. I have employees do that. I'm really hungry. Can't we do this after lunch?"

Rose rolled her eyes at me, clearly not going to be rushed. She was admiring our selection of dumbbells when Tanya finally arrived behind me.

"Surely you don't need to be showing around prospective clients, do you, Boss? I mean, surely a big man like you has other things he'd rather be doing?" She winked suggestively. "I seem to recall a _lot_ of other things you enjoy doing."

Rose turned around slowly, just at the moment that Tanya patted my rear and leaned in close to my ear to whisper, "So, is this my replacement?" She gave me a little kiss near my ear, then looked at Rose and said, "We're a very friendly gym, one big…ummmm….family, right, Emmie?"

Rose's face settled into an icy mask. "I see that. That would make you the older, slutty aunt, right?"

Rose sauntered away to look at the weight machines.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I hissed at Tanya.

"Oh, what? The little woman is so tender she can't take a little….competition?"

Tanya pulled away from me and walked over to Rose, who was watching us interact from a distance. As badly as I wanted to bodily remove Tanya from the general vicinity of Rose, I couldn't. One, because Rose was watching, and two, because it was the wrong thing to do.

"So….I take it you know my Emmie?" Tanya purred at Rose.

"Yes," Rose said tersely.

"I don't remember seeing you around before," Tanya said.

"Yes, you have," Rose replied. "I own the Unicorn Pub. It's not that far from the Red Bar, and I'm pretty sure we've seen each other at trade shows."

"Maybe so. I just haven't seen you around Emmett before," she said.

"Believe it or not, Tanya, you haven't seen me with everyone I've ever known," I snapped. Tanya was clearly not going to stop until she had given Rose a very clear image of what our previous relationship had been.

"That's true," she said. She turned toward Rose. "You see, when we're together, we're usually too _busy_ to go out."

Rose just stood there, nodding. Her nostrils had gone white around the edges, and her lips were set in a straight line. She was seething, and I saw her flex her hands, then clench them tight into fists.

"So, Rose, is it?"

"Rosalie," she spat.

"Yes, Rosalie," Tanya drawled, "Do you think you'll be joining us at the gym? Emmett does so like to have all of his conquests around. Between you and me," she leaned in toward Rose, "I think it makes him feel…manly. To have so many of us here that he's been with." She leaned back, and gave an evil little giggle. "I mean, it's not just me, is it, Emmie?"

Rose looked at me, and her face just hardened. "Yes, Emmett, I can really see how you'd be so concerned about Jake. But here's the difference between me and you." She took a step forward, her nose nearly touching mine. "I can keep my fucking pants on. I'm not at all sure that you can manage."

Tanya looked delighted, thoroughly cheered by the drama she'd created. She snickered behind her artificially plumped lips.

Rose turned toward Tanya. "As for you, Skankarella, you need to get the fuck out of my face. I'll need a test for chlamydia just from being in the same room with you. And if I see you again, I'll fatten your siliconed lips for free…no needles required."

Rose pushed her way past the two of us. Tanya was seething, and opened her mouth to say something. "Shut the fuck up, Tanya. You work here, that is all, and so help me if you touch me again like that your ass will be on the sidewalk before you know what happened. Are we clear, bitch?" I swear to God she hissed at me, but at the moment I couldn't begin to give a fuck. She'd pushed it too far, just like she did for six months when we'd dated. I'd been the world's biggest dumbass to let her walk in the door of the gym.

But right now, the only thing that mattered was Rose, who'd already reached the front door, and was looking back at me. Her eyes glittered, and I was pretty sure that for once, the glittering wasn't anger. It was tears.

She was almost to her car before I caught her. "Rose!" I grabbed her by the wrist in an attempt to slow her down. Her hand snaked around mine and broke my grip, then, before I knew what was coming, she backhanded me across the cheek.

"Fuck, Rose!" There were stars in my eyes. "What the fuck was that?"

"Don't EVER grab me. Got it?"

"Whoa, I've got it. I just wanted you to slow down."

"So, big man thought he'd just grab me like I was one of your little gym conquests?"

"No! I don't…I would never…"

"Ah, see, but you did! How many others in there?" One of my clients strolled past at that moment, and gave me a simpering little wave. It was very unfortunate timing. Rose, I swear to God, growled at me. I thought she was going to kill me. "Oh, look, another member of Emmett's little _harem." _She turned and bolted to her car.

I managed to get there before she did, and blocked her way. "Please, Rose." I was seriously getting desperate. "Don't leave."

"I know it might surprise you, Emmett, but I have absolutely no interest in becoming yet another notch on your belt. And your little sermon about how to treat the employees, with one of your whores in there entertaining prospective clients. You are a lying, self-righteous sack of shit."

"Rose, I…"

"What? What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"I just…I want you to know…" I couldn't even finish. I wanted her to know everything about me. Everything, inside and out. I just didn't know how to tell her, what to say that would keep her from leaving. I felt like everything came down to that one moment, that if she got in that car, she might never come back. I couldn't deny that everything she'd said about me, everything that she'd seen that day, was all true.

"WHAT?" I looked into her face, just as an angry tear rolled down her cheek. I reached up to wipe it away, but she batted my hand away and did it herself.

"I'm sorry," I said, and stepped away from her car door. I opened it for her and closed my eyes as she slammed the door. I heard the car start and squeal out of the space. I opened my eyes in time to see a flash of chrome as her car sped out of the parking lot and, in all likelihood, out of my life for good.

* * *

I'd promise to dance for reviews, but if you've seen Napoleon Dynamite or Elaine from Seinfeld dance, you get the general idea. It's not pretty. You get gratitude and a response. Okay, and I dance in my chair a little. Wearing hotpants. And thigh-high boots. And a spiffy bouffant hairstyle. But dignified-like.


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